Beer Very Bad
by Golden Waffles
Summary: When Willow gets drunk at the Bronze to drown her Oz-related sorrows in "Something Blue," she happens to run into a certain blonde. Something happens that night, and our girls end up at a very different beginning. But are they ready for it?
1. The Morning After

Title: Beer Very Bad (originally titled "One Night Stand," but this seemed more apt)  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For now, at least. Mentions of sex.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: I'm definitely a fan of Willow/Tara, so they will definitely end up together and happy by the end of this. They're gong to take a rather unusual path to get there, though. I just got this idea in my head and couldn't get rid of it, so here goes nothing!

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><p>Chapter 1:<br>The Morning After

_Buffy was right. Beer bad. Beer very bad._

Willow cringed as the pale morning light reached her, hitting her like a knife between the eyes and dragging her into wakefulness. She immediately brought her hands up to massage her temples, trying to ease the splitting headache that threatened to settle in for the day. One of her hands reached automatically for her neck, which had been stubbornly aching every day for the past several weeks, but she found that this morning it actually felt surprisingly loose and relaxed. Really, her whole body- besides her head and stomach- felt great. Loose. Relaxed. Rested. Kind of tingly, really. Just her head felt like it was going to split open. Her stomach also felt a little shifty, but some kind of warm, soft pressure was keeping it placated for the time being, which she was grateful for.

She supposed she deserved this. Drinking had never gotten their group anywhere good in the past. Buffy had certainly taught them that lesson. But after a day like yesterday, after Oz's only remaining things just disappeared, drowning her sorrows hadn't seemed like such a bad idea. The alcohol hadn't fixed anything, of course. Oz was still gone. All she had now was a hangover and a night of blurry memories that seemed to cut out after the third or fourth beer.

As she groaned her displeasure, she heard something answer her- a soft murmuring sound. She froze. Unexpectedly, the soft, warm thing that had been soothing her stomach began to move, causing goosebumps to explode over her entire body. It was this sensation that alerted her to the fact that she was, for some reason, completely naked. Given this new information, she was finally compelled to open her eyes to the piercing morning light.

_Uh oh._

She was lying back on a large bed. The quilt was lying on the floor, as was a blanket and about half of the remaining sheet. The walls of the room were painted black. Oz's room had been like that, but while his room had been littered with dirty clothes and CDs, this room was quite neat, although full of some rather bizarre decorations. More importantly, though, the mysterious warmth on her stomach and along her side was explained by the presence of the room's owner: a similarly naked, shapely blonde girl. This girl, now in the process of waking up, sighed and nuzzled against Willow's stomach, which obediently flipped over at the tickling sensation. Her heart exploded into high gear and ordered her brain to join it. She needed an explanation. And a solution. Fast.

The blonde girl gave a huge yawn, causing her nose to scrunch up sleepily, but she continued using Willow's tummy as a pillow. Her eyes, which were now revealed to be a clear blue, blinked dubiously at the expanse of skin before them with an expression of such bewilderment that Willow might have found it cute or funny under radically different circumstances. As comprehension dawned, the curious gaze slowly traveled up Willow's stomach, then chest, then neck, then lips, then nose, until it finally met Willow's own green eyes. The blonde's pink lips curved into a goofy, uncontrollable smile.

"Morning," she chirped, blushing lightly but remaining in her- _their_- entangled situation. Her voice was hoarse from sleep, but warm with affection, and her expression was open and trusting. Willow's tongue lay paralyzed, unable to form even a simple response to the greeting.

"Hi," she squeaked out finally, wincing as the hysterical timbre of her own voice reminded her head that it was supposed to be torturing her.

"Are you- Oh- Hold on. Let me get you something," the blonde murmured, disentangling herself from Willow and standing on shaky legs. "I guess this is, um, what you get for not being a 'good girl' last night, huh?" Before Willow could puzzle out the implications of that sentence, the girl executed a huge stretch, temporarily derailing her train of thought. Against her permission, a very small part of her mind began patting her on the back and enthusiastically shaking her hand. She clamped down on that before it could progress. Admittedly, the girl was beautiful. And naked. Very, very naked. Willow shivered and gathered a sheet around herself self-consciously. It smelled like sex. Lots of sex. She had had sex with this girl. A lot. Somehow. The sheets, the nakedness, the way her legs were weak and her body was humming- there were no two ways about it. It didn't make sense though. Why would she have sex with a _girl_? _How_ would she have sex with a girl?

Gritting her teeth against her throbbing headache and studiously ignoring any other throbbing body parts, she sat up just in time to see the mysterious girl returning. She held out her hands, one with a bottle of water and the other with a few aspirin. Willow averted her eyes slightly, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with their mutual nudity. The blonde didn't seem as concerned about it.

"Here," she offered. Willow swiftly accepted the water- her tongue had both the taste and consistency of sandpaper. She was more careful with the aspirin, and attempted to take it from the girl's hand with as little contact as possible. Naked touching was how she got into this mess in the first place. Successful, she popped the pills and took a long drag from the cool bottle. Her mouth and throat immediately felt better, but her stomach protested a little without the warm weight of the blonde's head to steady it. She took another long drink, trying to hydrate the hangover away. Meanwhile, the mystery girl, satisfied, settled back comfortably on the bed, silently looking Willow over. She seemed content. One of her hands drifted over to softly trace the length of the redhead's uncovered calf. At the unexpected touch, Willow shot back until she collided with the headboard with a painfully loud _bang_. The blonde started, her face suddenly wearing a strange mixture of confused and apologetic. Her face tinged pink and her head ducked so that her long hair shielded her face.

"S-sorry… I just…"

Willow stood abruptly, abandoning the water on a small wooden nightstand.

"I need to go now," she blurted out, her voice far too loud for the muted morning hour. She thought she saw the girl, still frozen in place, flinch at the harsh sound, folding into herself a little. Without pause, Willow began fumbling hastily for her clothes, which seemed to be strewn in all corners of the room. "I just… I have class… I mean, homework… I mean… I just… I'm sorry." The blonde lowered her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, shielding her exposed form, as Willow continued mindlessly, desperately grasping at excuses. "This wasn't… I didn't mean… I'm sorry. I have to go."

Her thoughts were flying too fast. It hurt. She just had to get away. If she could just put a little distance between her and this girl, her and this room, her and this absurd, inexplicable situation, it would all make more sense. She just had to get out, get away. She blindly pulled the clothes on, barely even registering what was going where. Her apparent ex-lover just sat perfectly still, frozen in the same defensive posture as Willow whirlwinded around the room, scrambling to produce her belongings.

"S-s-sure… Of… of course," she stammered finally, obviously trying and failing to keep her voice upbeat. Willow crammed her shoes roughly onto her feet and stumbled towards the door. She just had to leave. Then things would make sense again.

As she slipped out of the room, relief overtook her, but guilt forced her to give one last glance back to her mystery girl. She sat on the bed, silent and exposed, her legs now locked together and her arms shielding her chest. Her head was still bowed, but Willow could make out parts of her face- her downturned eyes, her knitted brow. The confident, unashamed girl of just a few minutes ago was gone, replaced by this shy, nervous creature. She looked mortified. Rejected. Willow's heart squeezed in sympathy, and maybe even gave a twinge of regret, but her head was screaming too loudly- _Get out, get out, get out!_ So she shut the door behind her, hiding her mystery girl from view, and began her brisk walk back to Stevenson in last night's clothes, finally understanding why everyone called it the Walk of Shame.


	2. Him

Title: Beer Very Bad (originally titled "One Night Stand")  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: PG-13. For now, at least. Mentions of sex. But not in this chapter.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.

A/N: This chapter is some stuff I just feel needs to be said before we go on. I have to admit, this kind of story is not my usual fare. I'm usually more of an "innocence and snuggles" kind of person, especially with this ship. I just wanted to go somewhere new for a change, and for some reason this is the story I decided to post here. I am extremely grateful that it's been so well received. Thank you, all of you who responded. And don't worry- things will start to pick up between our girls soon.

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><p>Chapter 2:<p>

Him

Willow burst through the heavy double doors and into the waxing morning sunlight. She could feel that the air was still damp with morning fog, but realized that she didn't actually know what time it was. She had been too distracted to look at the clock, and she didn't think she had a watch on her. The sun was still pretty low in the sky. It was probably around seven o'clock, if she had to guess. On a college campus on a Saturday, that meant that no one would be up for another three or four hours, at least. She still had some time.

Shivering, she crossed her arms against the morning chill and decided to walk to Stevenson as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. Unfortunately, she wasn't entirely sure where she was. The sign next to the doors she had just exited labeled the dormitory as Kresge Hall. She vaguely recognized the name. A quick scan of her surroundings reminded her why- it was right next to Erickson Hall, Oz's old dorm. In hindsight, it should have been obvious- the dark-walled dorms were all on the east side of campus. She even recognized the trees that stood along the sidewalks, offering shade from the inescapable Southern California sun. She didn't realize that she had begun moving until she saw her hand pushing the door to Erickson open, apparently beyond her control.

After the morning she had just had, walking through those doors was like stepping back in time. It was impossible to believe that she had just been here yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. How many times had she walked through this hallway and waited under these fluorescent lights? Dozens? Hundreds? Her feet traced the familiar path, and she was inexplicably grateful for the familiar motions. She reached his dorm room- _former_ dorm room- in less than a minute. It was locked. Before her mind could come up with a more logical solution to this problem, or even talk her out of the visit entirely, she was already trying to unlock it with magic. She felt a shudder run down her spine as the magic burned through her, exactly as wild and unstable as her emotions. Under her grip, the metal handle suddenly become very hot, and the lock emitted a very disconcerting hissing sound, like ice dropped into a frying pan. As she reflexively jerked her hand away from the heat and noise, the door slid open with it. _Well, close enough. _She cautiously stepped in, giving the handle a wide berth- she had a sinking feeling that some part of it was now either melted or on fire. Or both.

His room- no, _the_ room- was empty. Still empty. The pictures of them together, his band posters, his sheets, his clothes- all still gone. She sank down on his bed, alone, and lay her head on her knees.

_ What about Oz?_ This wasn't a new question. It had been rolling around in her head, popping up when she least expected it, ever since he left. Heck, even before he left. College was so different from high school. They were different. Their relationship had been different ever since they started at UC-Sunnydale. No, earlier. Since graduation. Maybe even earlier. Since the fluke. Or since he became a werewolf. Maybe things had never been easy between them. Even without the cheating. _All _of the cheating. Her with Xander, him with Veruca, and now her with this girl. If that could even be called cheating. _Are we still together? Can you really be considered to be dating someone if you haven't spoken in over a month and don't even know what hemisphere he's in? Even after he cheated on you and left you?_

She sighed wearily, raising her head and looking around the room. It didn't even look like his room anymore. Nothing of his was left in it, not even his scent. His presence was fading fast. _How did this happen?_ _How did it all happen so easily? Shouldn't it be harder to do that to someone you really love?_

It was strange. They had worked so well together in the beginning. They balanced each other out, she had always thought. Where she was babbling and exuberant and spazzy, he was understated and subdued and cool. He was always funny, usually smart, and occasionally sweet. And she was his. Ever since he had begun taking an interest in her, his presence had seemed so _essential_. He liked her. Loved her, even. Supported her when he felt like he could- although not when it came to magic. That kind of attention didn't happen to her every day, especially not back then.

She still missed him, even given everything that had happened between them. Things were just harder now. More complicated. A lot more complicated. In the end, she just didn't want to be always left waiting around for him while he disappeared over and over again. Like she always was. Like she was now- left, alone, waiting, wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he was okay, if he was thinking about her, if he was ever coming back, if she even really wanted him to come back. She could feel it eating at her, making her doubt herself, making her feel helpless, making her feel alone. It was no way to live. She didn't deserve that, and she knew it.

She stood up. It was time to go. She had already been here for too long, and it wasn't her place anymore. She couldn't be absolutely sure of anything on a day like today, but she was pretty confident in this: if Oz wanted any hope of being in her life, he would have to come back and stay in it so that they could work through it all. And there wasn't much of a chance of that happening. With shaky legs, but a look of resolve, she walked out the door, leaving the lock broken behind her.


	3. Home

Title: Beer Very Bad (originally titled "One Night Stand")  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: PG-13. For now, at least. Mentions of sex.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: Well, you are now experiencing the "long chapter once-a-week" style of updating rather than the "short chapter twice-a-week" style from before. I'm hoping I can keep it up. Next week is finals, though, so it might be rough. I promise, this is the LAST "Willow thinking to herself" chapter. There are other characters. Actually, I'm liking the next chapter (especially compared to this one and the last one). We'll see Tara again (sort of), and Willow and Buffy have some close call conversations. So don't worry- things will definitely pick up. We just need some context first.

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><p>Chapter 3:<p>

Home

In Willow's experience, the walk from Erickson to Stevenson took between five and seven minutes, depending on her pace. In this case, it was just enough time for her to wonder whether she really wanted Buffy to be there or if she really, really didn't want Buffy to be there. On the one hand, talking through things was how she dealt with them- without vocalization, her thoughts just piled up until they threatened to make her brain explode. Usually, she talked things out with Buffy. But this… this was something unprecedented. Where would she even start? How could she admit what she had done, even to her best friend?

Besides, Buffy had been so preoccupied lately. Her budding relationship with Riley was keeping her pretty busy and distracted. They just weren't talking like they used to. Sometimes it was hard to believe they still lived together.

_Well_, she thought bitterly, _at least Buffy will be happy that I won't be complaining about Oz as much._

She did feel considerably better now that she had made a decision about the whole Oz situation. She would still miss him. Maybe she would always miss him. But things were just too complicated with him. Too hard. Her feelings were so scattered when it came to him. Relationships took work sometimes, but she thought the emotions- the love- should be effortless. And it wasn't anymore. And she was relieved.

Saturdays mornings were not hotbeds of college activity. Willow easily avoided running into anyone as she navigated the deserted quad. It was a beautiful morning, actually, with a breathtaking sunrise behind her and happy birds twittering all over the place. It felt wrong. Her morning had been so indescribably _weird_, she felt like the sky should be green or upside-down or something. Nature disagreed. Apparently, the universe thought it was a great morning after all.

…

In the end, it didn't matter whether she wanted Buffy to be around or not- by the time she got to their room, it was empty, with both beds neatly made. Maybe Buffy had done a late patrol. Or maybe she was with Riley again.

Willow was happy for her best friend- mostly. It was good for her to have a nice, normal (albeit boring) guy for once, instead of a broody vampire like Angel or a humungous jerk like Parker. She deserved someone who wouldn't make her miserable, and Riley seemed pretty committed to that goal. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure Buffy could _do_ "normal, healthy relationship," without all the fighting and demons and tortured souls. She supposed they would soon find out- either she and Riley would work or they wouldn't.

Either way, part of her hoped Buffy would find another conversation topic soon. She was about as tired of hearing about Riley as Buffy was of hearing about Oz. She imagined that half the reason they didn't talk as much these days was that their conversations had become so repetitive.

"_Riley likes me."_

"_Oz is gone."_

"_I think I like Riley, too."_

"_I miss Oz."_

"_He's not Angel, though."_

"_It hurts."_

"_Angel made me sad, though."_

"_I feel like I've been torn in half."_

"_Riley's a good guy."_

"_I don't know what to do without him."_

It wasn't a fun conversation to have over and over again. Still, she'd rather have that conversation another thousand times than the inevitable new one.

"_So, Buffy, remember the other night at the Bronze? I got blackout drunk and had sex with a girl I've never seen before."_

Usually, her conversations with Buffy were borderline redundant. They knew each other so well, she could predict what Buffy would say in almost any situation. It was just nice to say it all out loud. It was reassuring. She didn't know what Buffy would say in the "I accidentally had drunk, anonymous gay sex" conversation. She wasn't even she what _she_ would say in the "I accidentally had drunk, anonymous gay sex" conversation. How do you talk to someone about something like that?

Willow sank down on her bed and sighed, shaking her head to dispel the stray thoughts. _Okay, so now what?_ Her eyes slowly swept the room before falling on a basket in her closet. She walked over and picked it up, along with a change of clothes. Hopefully, a long shower would help her clear her head. It certainly couldn't hurt anything.

…

She twisted the knobs on the shower until it ran warm and began stripping her clothes off. To her surprise, there was only one casualty of her hasty dressing: her inside-out socks. All things considered, it could have been much worse. She was also grateful for the steam; as it built up around the shower, it muffled some of the background noise in her head. After testing the water with her hand, she stepped into the warm stream. A small sigh escaped her as the water poured over her head. The aspirin had eased away the worst of her headache, but it still felt a little bad, especially given the heavy weight of her morning-long thought avalanche. The heat sank into her skull, soothing away the final dregs of pain and leaving her free to finish her ruminations.

_God, what happened? What don't I remember?_

She poured some shampoo into her palm and began roughly massaging it into her hair. _I remember going to the Bronze with Buffy and Xander. They wanted to cheer me up after Oz. But they were so on eggshells the whole time, I decided to wander off on my own. So I sat at the bar for a minute. And then Bartender Pete offered me a drink. I must have been looking sad._

She rinsed the shampoo out and tried to rub conditioner into the new tangles in her hair. She tried to ignore the reason her hair was so messy. For now, at least. For now, she appreciated the sweet, familiar scent her bath products gave the steam.

_So I drank a beer. And I think it tasted pretty gross. But I felt just a little better afterwards. My head was quieter. So I drank another. And I felt a little better again. More relaxed. The music sounded a little better and the lights looked a little cooler. So I decided to have another. So I went back to the bar._

Willow froze with her hands still in her hair, halfway through combing out the tangles.

_There. At the bar. There was someone there. I remember them. Blonde hair. Her. It was her. She looked lost, like she had never been somewhere like that before. But I just got another drink and left. And then… God, what then? More drinking? I think I went to the bathroom. I must have. But then what? Did I get another beer? Did I talk to her? Did she talk to me? Why did I have to drink that much? Why didn't I ask Buffy to take me home? Why was I so stupid? Why did I let myself get that upset?_

She let her hands fall to her sides as the water rinsed everything from her hair and ran its course down her body to the drain. So that was something. She had met the girl at the bar. She might have been drinking, too. But how did they go from there to… where they ended up? What the frilly heck had happened in between? Besides the obvious. No, _especially_ the obvious.

Had they talked first? What had they talked about? Did they dance? Kiss? Were they both drunk? Did the girl think she was flirting with her? _Was_ she flirting with her?

There was only one person in the world who knew the answer to that question, and she wasn't in the shower. If Willow wanted to ask her, she would have to go back to The Room. Back to the mystery girl in Kresge on the east side of campus. Back to the cause of some of the most thorough and unshakable confusion she had ever felt in her life. She wasn't really in a hurry to do that.

She turned around so that the hot water rained against her shoulders. Leaving was bad. The water was good. Nice. Pleasant. Soothing. For the past several weeks, her whole body had been an overstressed network of muscle knots, caused by too much worrying and too little sleep. It felt better now. Much better. She just wasn't sure why.

As she closed her eyes and focused on the warmth pounding against her back, the tiniest, weakest dregs of a memory tickled the back of her mind. The stream of water condensed and transformed into a pair of hands. Soft, warm hands. Hands that touched and kneaded and soothed all of her tense spots into submission. Hands that raised goosebumps over her entire body. It felt good. _Really_ good. The memory was fleeting, though, and when she opened her eyes to check that she really was alone in the stall, the sensation faded. Frowning to herself, she twisted the faucets into the off position and exited, shivering.

The time to herself had helped. Her head was racing less, and she felt considerably calmer. The shower had made her feel better. _Clean._ As she got dressed in her new clothes and toweled off her drenched hair, the word struck her as odd. _Did I feel unclean before? _She cocked her head to the side. _Not really. Embarrassed? Definitely. Confused? Absolutely. Ashamed? Well, maybe a little. But unclean? Violated? No. Not that. Not really. Whoever that girl was, I'm pretty sure she wasn't evil. She wasn't a vampire. She wasn't Parker Abrams. She seemed kind of sweet. She wouldn't have done something like that. Whoever she was._

Willow returned to the room, depositing her clothes at the foot of her bed rather than in the hamper. She was tired. She reached under her bed and pulled out a large stuffed dog. He had kept her company in countless other moments of crisis, and he was always a good source of comfort and advice in the absence of her friends.

"So, boy, what do I do now?"

Before the toy could answer, she heard the rattling of a key in a stubborn lock. Buffy was home. She couldn't talk to Buffy. What would she even say? She hadn't come up with a good conversation starter yet! She hadn't rehearsed! Without thinking, she flung herself down on her side and closed her eyes, feigning sleep. She heard the door open and Buffy walk in. The footsteps paused in front of her bed for a few tense seconds before continuing to the far side of the room. Willow was unsure of how convincing her charade was, but she continued to hold perfectly still as Buffy buzzed around the room. _Now I just wait for her to leave… or something…_

As she pretended to be asleep, she realized that her eyelids were actually pretty heavy and that they appreciated the rest. And that her bed was pretty comfy, especially now that her body wasn't so achy. And that she was really tired.

…And then she was back at the Bronze…


	4. The Bronze

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: PG-13. For now, at least. Mentions of sex.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: Sorry about the delays, guys. I had a bad case of not-wanting-to-write due to a combination of finals and an unexpectedly busy spring break. Now that I'm back at school, things should be returning to normal, including weekly updates.

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><p>Chapter Four:<p>

The Bronze

Willow sat on the lumpy red couch at the Bronze with Buffy and Xander. She was having trouble relaxing, though. Even as familiar music echoed from the stage and her best friends flanked her, she couldn't shake a profoundly uneasy feeling. There was something distinctly foreboding about the way the lights flashed and the people dancing around them all blurred together.

"I don't think we're supposed to be here, guys," she suggested, looking around with wide eyes. "What if something bad's about to happen?"

Buffy gave her a concerned look.

"Riley, Riley. Riley Riley Riley?" said the Slayer. Willow blinked at her, unsure if that was a normal response.

"We're going to have sex," said a strange combination of Xander and Anya's voices. Willow turned to look at him. His right side was Xander's right side, but his left side was Anya's left side. Their faces, bodies, and clothes merged in the middle. That was a little odd, too.

"I don't think there's time for that," Willow commented, trying to put her finger on what exactly was so weird about the situation.

Failing that, she frowned and turned her attention to the stage. Oz was playing tonight. The Dingoes jammed in the background, while he stood up front under the spotlight. As she looked up at him, he caught her eye and winked.

"Guys, why is Oz here? Isn't he supposed to be… somewhere else?"

"Riley?" said Buffy.

"Oz? He came back ages ago. Did no one tell you?" said Xander/Anya in Anya's voice. "I could eviscerate him, if you want."

"No, I don't want. But… why…?"

Oz winked at her again, then suddenly began to transform. His eyes turned black, his hands elongated into claws, and thick fur began to sprout on his arms and face. No one else seemed concerned by this. Somehow, the music continued. Willow looked back at her friends.

"Uh, hey, shouldn't we be warning everyone? They don't know he's a werewolf. He could hurt people."

"Riley, Riley. Riley Riley?"

"Yeah, I agree with Buffy," said Xander's voice. "Because she's hot."

Somehow, though, Oz stopped mid-transformation, and stood snarling and howling into the microphone, saliva dripping from his half-formed snout. The music continued. No one else reacted.

"Do you think something Hellmouth-y is going on?" she turned to ask Buffy. Buffy was gone. "Hey, Xand, did you see where Buffy went?" Xander/Anya was gone, too. She frowned. She was alone. "Why does everyone keep leaving?" The music stopped. The blurry people around them were gone. She turned back to the stage to look for Oz, but her vision was blocked by a rather unexpected form.

"Hey, lover." Her mystery girl stood before her, still completely naked. She was leering at her from under heavily lidded eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Willow asked, sinking back into the couch cushions. She noticed that they were blue now instead of red.

"Who, me? Who knows. Maybe I'm always here. It's a pretty good place to pick up chicks, apparently." She chuckled and gave a huge, provocative stretch to make sure Willow could see every inch of her. Her blonde hair, still messy from their encounter, tumbled over her shoulders. "I mean, I picked you up, didn't I?"

Willow picked up a blue pillow that was now beside her and hugged it protectively to her chest. She still had her clothes on for now, but if there was some kind of naked spell going on or a nudity demon on the loose, she wanted no part in it.

"I don't remember."

The blonde smiled seductively and leaned over Willow, giving her a good look-over. Her eyes were a darker blue than Willow remembered, and they held all the self-assuredness of someone looking at something that already belongs to them. Willow gulped.

"It was easy, too. You were so lonely, so desperate, so willing." She touched a finger under Willow's chin. It burned slightly. "By the end, you were just begging me to-"

"Hey! L-Leave her alone!" came a voice from directly behind the couch. As the blonde rolled her eyes and straightened up, Willow turned to look behind her. Behind her was the same girl, but instead of proud and striking, she was cowering behind the back of the couch, trying to stay hidden.

"Great. You're here, too, huh?" the provocative version huffed, crossing her arms under her chest. She took a step back until her calves bumped against the coffee table. Willow sucked in a grateful breath at the reclaimed distance.

"W-well… I don't think you're t-t-telling the whole truth. W-we wouldn't have made her do anything that made her uncomfortable," the hiding girl stuttered meekly. Willow could just see a pair of watery blue eyes underneath a crown of straight blonde hair, parted in an uneven zigzag that betrayed darker roots.

"You think so?" The standing girl arched a single brow. "Well, I want to know what _she_ thinks. How about it, lover girl? What do you think about us?"

"I, uh… I'm not sure?"

"I'll bet." The proud version shook her head and sat back. Where the coffee table used to be, there were now stacks of ancient magical texts. She perched there comfortably, her hands splayed behind her and her legs mercifully crossed. "You ran off pretty fast this morning. We didn't get a chance to catch up. Do you even know our name?"

"I, uh–" Willow was finding it harder and harder to think, especially given the body currently exposed to her. More and more of her concentration was being taken up by her forcing her eyes away from the girl's impressive chest.

"S-she's right," the shy one hesitantly piped up, raising her head a few inches to reveal the rest of her face. "You just left. D-did we do something wrong? We didn't mean to."

The brazen one stiffened and turned her head.

"I don't mind," she said breezily. "Love 'em and leave 'em, that's what I always say."

The cowering one pouted in response.

"B-But I wanted to cuddle."

Willow looked between them, as it slowly dawned on her that one person wasn't supposed to have two separate personalities and corporeal forms.

"Hey, what's with you two? Shouldn't you be agreeing? Or, you know, only one person?" she asked. The one seated on the books picked one up and began flipping through it. The cover said _The Book of Erotic Sapphism and Split Personalities_.

"That's up to you, I guess. According to this, you're just wigged that you had sex with a girl and are compensating by splitting us into two separate, inaccurate generalizations based on what you remember from our seventy-five seconds of actual interaction." She snapped it shut. "But what do they know?"

Willow stared at her for several seconds. The girl just grinned back like she had stumped her with a particularly tricky riddle.

"So… um… what are you really like, then?" Willow asked. Her head was starting to feel funny.

"W-well… we could be l-like some c-c-combination… of the two of us," the shy one suggested, lifting her head a little higher.

"Do you think so?" Willow asked curiously. The timid girl shook her head.

"N-no. Actually, you're probably all wrong. You weren't paying that much attention. We probably aren't like this at all. Not really."

"What should I do?" Willow's voice seemed to echo in her own head.

"What do you want to do?" She couldn't tell where the voice was coming from anymore.

"What's that noise?"

She blinked her eyes and abruptly found herself staring at her closet door in her dorm room. Her head was resting on the fluffy dog, and her legs had kicked at the sheets in her sleep. Her headache had finally abated. As she cautiously looked around the room, she realized that Buffy had left while she was asleep.

"Well," she muttered to herself, combing her fingers through her damp hair. "That was one hell of a dream."

Her stomach growled angrily. It was almost lunchtime, and she felt like she hadn't eaten in days. After a huge stretch to loosen up, she finally readied herself to face the real world. This was going to be one weird week.


	5. Haunted

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: Definitely T for this chapter. Definitely.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: Well, this turned out longer than normal. Woo-hoo? I like that it's longer, but it tends to end up a little less polished then. Also, be understanding about the dream- I've never written something quite like it before, and I was trying to combine sexy with nonexplicit, so… I'm not so sure how that worked. Anyway, as you can see, I'm looking to push things forward a little faster. Let me know what you think of it all. I really appreciate all your reviews!

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><p>Chapter Five:<br>Haunted

_Willow pressed their lips together again, more forcefully this time. Her lover's hands were everywhere, roaming freely across her bare back and sides. They caressed the skin with a featherlight touch until they reached their goal, then squeezed firmly. Willow broke away from the kiss with a gasp, but was swiftly recaptured by soft, pink lips. They teased her, nipping her playfully before tracing along her jawline towards her neck. Willow's breath continued coming in gasps as every inch of her quivered in pleasure and anticipation. As the lips latched onto a sensitive spot on her neck, she felt every muscle in her body tense like she had been struck by a bolt of sizzling hot lightning. Her hands immediately tangled themselves in the long, silky blonde hair, pulling her lover still closer. In response, strong hands tightened their grip on her already heated flesh. Willow felt her skin ache for the vital contact, felt the world dissolve until there was nothing but the two of them, burning up in their own fire. She moaned helplessly as a wave of pure, raw emotion began building all the way in her toes, growing and rising until lights flashed behind her eyes and blood roared in her ears. Just before the wave broke, her lips parted to cry out the most powerful word she could think of–_

Willow woke up soaked and throbbing, the name on her lips instantly forgotten in the shock of the cool morning air. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, aching for release. All she knew was that if she moved even an inch, the stimulation would cause her to explode outright.

It had been another dream. Another of _those _dreams. Every morning this week, she had woken up in increasingly intense states of arousal after impossibly realistic dreams about the pretty girl from the Bronze. She wasn't sure her body could take too many more of those, let alone her mental state. She felt like she was losing her mind. She and Buffy were supposed to be keeping dream journals for their psychology class, but she instead spent her mornings making up wacky nonsense to hide the fact that her dreams had all been about steamy sex with a beautiful blonde stranger.

Presently, though, she was in quite the predicament. Having survived the three previous mornings, she knew what she had to do. She just had to hold perfectly still until she was sure that Buffy was gone, then _very_ carefully get up and take a nice, icy shower to calm her boiling blood.

With what little focus she could muster, she listened for signals in the ambient noise. She didn't hear any breathing or moving around her. It was quiet except for her own shuddering breaths. Buffy was gone. _Good._

She had actually been avoiding Buffy since _it_ happened four days ago. She was afraid that her friend would take one look at her and instantly know what had she had done. In her calmer, more rational moments, she realized how crazy that was, but really, who knew the extent of a Slayer's abilities?

Still, her desperate hiding was probably getting to be suspicious. They lived in the same room and had barely even looked at each other in days. She missed her best friend. She vowed that once she was sufficiently cooled off and calmed down, she would find Buffy and start to make amends. She just had to get her legs working first.

…

So far, Willow thought that the Willow-Buffy reunion was going fine. She had sat with Buffy in Psychology and now they were walking to the cafeteria, chatting as though they were still in high school. As the redhead chuckled at an anecdote about Riley practicing conversation starters in the mirror, Buffy nudged her and pointed up.

"Hey, you see that sign?"

Willow looked up. Then she felt her textbooks slip from her suddenly nerveless fingers. _Lesbian Alliance. Why is Buffy showing me the Lesbian Alliance sign? Does she know something? Suspect something? Was I talking in my sleep? Have I been looking at girls? Am I just that obvious?_

As Buffy gave her a puzzled look, she dropped down to hurriedly collect her possessions from the floor.

"What? Why? What about it? What sign?"

Buffy arched an eyebrow and glanced up at the huge banner.

"The really giant one with the lesbians. You know, the one right above you. Are you okay?"

Willow straightened up, looking abashed. _Great. Now the universe itself is labeling me._

"Oh. That sign."

"Yeah." They continued walking, although Willow was now hunched over a little, her eyes flitting about evasively. "I was just saying that Riley helped put it up. That was when he asked me about the picnic."

"Oh. Cool."

"Yeah." The slightly confused expression didn't leave Buffy's face. "Hey, are you okay?

"What? Yeah. Of course. Why… why wouldn't I be?" Willow attempted a smile that was more of a strangled grimace.

Buffy looked at her critically, the same way she looked at a pair of overpriced shoes in a mall sale.

"I don't know. You've been acting a little… not okay lately. Ever since Oz asked for his stuff…"

Willow paused, blinking in surprise. _Oz?_ She had barely had time to think about him since she left his room that morning for the last time. She was too preoccupied with her mystery girl. Besides the incessant dreams, she seemed to see the semi-blonde wherever she went on campus, like a neverending clandestine game of Where's Waldo. Except that her prize for winning was the rough equivalent of a heart attack. Just the day before, she had spent half the afternoon hiding behind a tree in the park after she spotted someone resembling her mystery girl standing on the bridge, feeding ducks. By the time she worked up the courage to double-check, she was gone. Not to mention that three trips to the library over the past four days had resulted in three possible sightings of the girl. Willow had already half-decided to avoid the library for the rest of her academic career, however impractical it seemed. Anything to keep that unspeakably awkward, painfully embarrassing encounter from ever happening.

"Yeah. That. Oz. That was pretty bad."

"You haven't said much the past couple of days. It's not like you to be all quiet and secretive." She narrowed her eyes. "You aren't having an affair with Xander again, are you?"

A strangled yelp burst from Willow's throat at the idea. She wasn't sure if she was laughing at the ludicrousness of it, arguing at its offensiveness, or gagging in disgust. Some combination of the three.

"_Xander_? What? Are you crazy? I already tried that once, and only because of temporary insanity. Never again, thanks. Besides, he and Anya are so close they're practically sharing a spleen at this point. Who am I to keep him away from his insane demon girlfriend?"

"Ex-demon," Buffy corrected with a smirk. "And I was joking. I know that was… you know…"

"A fluke," Willow finished with a sigh. Just a fluke. Her thing with Xander was just a fluke. But what was her thing with this girl?

"Do you think the fro-yo machine is fixed yet?"

"I guess we'll find out."

The cafeteria was bustling with activity. It was almost noon and most students were between classes. Co-eds sat and stood around the tables, talking and laughing with each other as they scarfed down the mediocre food.

The two walked up and grabbed trays, trying to look ahead at the selection.

"Anything good?" Willow asked from her position behind Buffy. The Slayer wrinkled her nose briefly.

"Nothing special."

"Sandwiches again?" Willow suggested. Sandwiches were the default when the daily selection was no good.

"Looks like it." Buffy paused to inspect a row of pudding cups. "It's crowded today."

"Yeah," Willow commented absentmindedly, scanning the room. There were people everywhere. It would be hard for them to find an empty table. A flicker of movement by one of the windows caught her eye. Her gaze focused in until she realized that she was openly staring at a very familiar blonde girl, seated at a table in the corner, fully engrossed in a book. Willow noticed her grip loosening on her tray and scrambled to correct it, but the tray– luckily only holding a carton of milk– clattered to the floor. The sound was muffled in the noisy room. Only a few nearby students glanced over, giving only a cursory look before losing interest or giving a small chuckle. Willow felt her face heat up, and knew that it was probably turning bright red. She replaced the tray on the counter and immediately strode out of the room with her head down, leaving behind a very confused Slayer.

Willow was halfway down the hallway by the time she remembered Buffy. She halted her step and leaned against the wall, thudding her head against it for good measure.

_That's it. I give up. She's everywhere. She's haunting me. First in the dreams, now in real life. This is crazy. I can't just run away every time I see her on campus. What if we have a class together? What if we end up in the same dorm? What if I ever want to use the library again?_

Her inner monologue was interrupted by a turkey sandwich. She blinked. A turkey sandwich wrapped in plastic hovered in the foreground of her vision, just in front of the image of her best friend, who was offering it to her. Willow smiled wryly and accepted the gift.

"Thanks."

"No big." Buffy shot her the same critical look as before. "You didn't have to run away, you know. I don't think anyone saw you drop it."

"I know…" She turned the sandwich over and over in her hands. "Can we just go back to the room? I don't want to hang around here."

"Sure." Buffy linked their arms and started towards the exit, maintaining the odd expression. To Willow's relief, her best friend managed to quell her instinct to interrogate until they were safely in the room. Willow immediately perched on her bed, unwrapping her lunch, while Buffy stood at the foot of the bed and watched. When Willow raised her eyes to meet her, Buffy turned her eyes to the floor, where a small pile of clothes sat, untouched since they had first been dropped there four days ago.

"Are you sure you're okay? I mean, I think these have been lying here since Saturday." She scooped up the shirt and waved it at Willow. As it dangled lifelessly from her hand, she suddenly tilted her head and furrowed her brow at it. "Is this even yours?"

This caught Willow off-guard. She put down her sandwich.

"What?" She looked at it suspiciously. "Of course it is. I've had it for months."

Buffy shrugged uncertainly.

"I didn't think it had buttons."

Willow frowned.

"It doesn't…"

She took it from her friend's hands to examine it. It wasn't exactly like she remembered. It was roughly the same color and cut, but this shirt buttoned up the front. Buffy was right; it wasn't supposed to. This shirt was also just a little bigger than she remembered, especially in the chest. She dropped it.

"Oh my God." It wasn't her blouse. "Oh my God."

"Will?"

"It's not mine." _This can't be happening._

"Will?"

"It's hers. Oh God. It's hers." _I stole her shirt. Oh no. I stole her shirt._

"Whose?" Buffy looked very lost at Willow's extreme reaction.

"I don't know her name." _Oh no. I can't just keep it. It's not mine. It's hers._

"Then how do you have her shirt?"

"Oh God." _I'll have to give it back to her. And get my shirt back from her. Which means I'll have to see her. And talk to her. Oh no._

"_Willow_." Buffy looked dangerously close to just grabbing her and shaking her until she calmed down. Willow tried to take a deep breath, but it came out more like hyperventilating.

"It's… a long story." _A long, sexy, drunk, gay story I was hoping I would never actually have to tell you._

"I've got time." Buffy settled next to her on the bed. Willow gulped nervously.

"Are you sure? It's… it's a super long story. Practically an epic."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Don't you have to go meet Riley or something?" _I know that's playing dirty, but I need more time. I still don't know how I'm going to phrase this in a way that isn't disturbing._

"He can live without me for a few hours. Now come on. Tell me what's really up. Is it about Oz?" Buffy nudged her shoulder. Willow hung her head. She had almost forgotten how long they had been friends, how close they had been over the years. Buffy was worried about her, and she wasn't going to just let this go and forget about it. Willow smiled wryly.

"It really, really isn't."

"Then what?"

Willow sighed and rubbed her face roughly with both hands to stabilize herself. It was still too early. She hadn't wanted to tell Buffy so soon. But the words were already bubbling up, begging to be let out. If she didn't say them now, they would make her head explode. She reluctantly raised her head from her hands and looked Buffy in the eye for the first time in days.

"Do you remember Friday night? When we all went to the Bronze?"


	6. The Talk

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language and mentions of sex.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: Well, the chapters are getting more consistently long, so that's nice. I will admit to not being totally thrilled with this one. What sounded really good in my head kept coming out as stilted and choppy, and the tone was all over the place. I thought about postponing the chapter to work on polishing it up, but I figured it might take a long time, and I'm way too excited about the next chapter to wait. So bear with me.  
>AN2: I'm going to start putting more info about this story on my profile, like information about the next chapter and maybe a little preview. So you can check in on that if you want.

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><p>Chapter 6:<br>The Talk 

"Do you remember Friday night? When we all went to the Bronze?"

Buffy nodded, glancing briefly at the clock before getting comfortable on the edge of the bed.

"Sure. You ran off before we could do the bonding, cheering-up thing." She didn't sound hurt or mad, just conversational. Willow winced anyway, and let out a long, steadying breath. _Okay, first the easy part._

"That's… I didn't actually run off." _Kind of. _"I stayed in the Bronze."

Buffy frowned and cocked her head to the side.

"Then where did you go?"

"The bar."

Buffy immediately put on her Slayer-face and geared up for a thorough scolding.

"Will, bars are dangerous. Especially around here. I mean, you never know when someone's going to magic-spike the beer and make everyone-"

Willow interrupted her before she could pick up momentum, waving her hand to cut her off.

"I know. I know. Beer bad. Cavemen. I'll never do it again. Trust me."

Buffy paused in her warning, but left her arms crossed.

"So you drank something," she clarified, still offering a pointed look. Willow nodded fervently.

"A lot of something." She blushed lightly and looked down at her hands, which were tearing her sandwich into pieces. So far, Buffy was reacting about like she expected, but the hard part hadn't even begun yet. "I actually kind of blacked out. I don't remember a whole lot about what happened. Everything's either blank or really fuzzy."

Buffy's gaze softened a little, and her arms loosened. She was turning back into Concerned Best Friend Buffy. Willow relaxed just a hair.

"What do you think happened?" Buffy asked.

The redhead took a deep breath, trying to think of the gentlest way to approach the topic. _Something besides "I had anonymous gay sex with a hot blonde."_

"I met someone," she tried, rolling words and descriptions around in her head and immediately discarding them. _Okay, that's fair. Let's just start vague, then work our way up to the more dangerous parts._ "At the bar."

Buffy's eyebrows lifted at this new information. She let her arms fall back to her sides as Slayer Buffy finally left the building.

"Oh." Understandably, Willow having a new romantic life seemed to be something she hadn't considered. "Like a new guy? Is that what this is about? You have a new guy?"

"No. Nothing like that. Not really." _Not at all._

"Then by 'met,' you mean…"

Willow stabilized herself by squeezing her eyes shut and gripping the comforter with both hands. _It's okay. Just keep going. This is going fine. Just get it all out and deal with the consequences._

"Went to the room of," she answered finally.

Buffy's eyebrows rose higher as she waited for the final confession. Willow blushed deeply. This was more humiliating than she had expected. Maybe she should have just written an e-mail or something.

"And…" her friend prompted. When Willow didn't respond, she continued. "And… slept with?"

"Well… yes… that was the final result," Willow admitted, cringing preemptively at Buffy's expected reaction.

"And that's a… bad thing?" Buffy guessed uncertainly. Willow knew that her friend had been hoping for her to move on from Oz and start dating again. She imagined that Buffy hadn't meant this exactly.

"Kind of, yeah. I mean, we'd never even met before. And there were… circumstances…"

"What circumstances?" Buffy's hazel eyes widened momentarily. "He wasn't a vampire, was he? Because that's not something I recommend."

Willow gave an abrupt laugh in spite of herself. Her hands released their death grip.

"No, no vampires. I mean, Angel was nice and all, but the whole dead thing gives me the willies."

"Good. It should." Buffy narrowed her eyes until she was sure Willow was serious, then relaxed back into her interrogation. "Then what's the problem? Was he not boyfriend material? Was the whole thing an accident? Was it like Parker?" The questions came pouring out. When Willow didn't move to respond, Buffy's brow furrowed in distaste. "You wanted to do it, right?"

Willow looked up sharply. _Does she mean…_

"Yeah, of course," she answered without hesitation. _Probably, at least. I don't think people who abduct drunk girls from nightclubs give them aspirin in the morning. Or let them leave. Or look really sad when they do._ "I'm pretty sure."

Buffy frowned deeply.

"Pretty sure? Why just pretty sure?"

"Blacked out, remember?" Willow responded sheepishly, shrugging.

"So… if you can't remember, then how do you even know you did anything?" Buffy tried to puzzle out the mess of information, but it obviously wasn't all lining up yet. Willow gulped. She could feel her fingers shaking.

_Okay. Deep breath. Almost there._

"I woke up there. Saturday morning. Naked."

_And covered in her._

"Did you ask him what happened?" Buffy asked reasonably.

_Of course not. There was no 'him.' That's the point. Did you really miss the gender-neutral pronouns earlier? Because I was really hoping I wouldn't have to say this out loud._

"No. I kind of just ran out first thing in the morning. I was pretty freaked."

_And left her hurt, naked, and alone on the bed. And stole her shirt, apparently. Go me._

"Okay. I get that." Buffy reached down and retrieved something from the floor. It was the blouse with the buttons that didn't belong. "But what does that have to do with the shirt?" She brandished it in front of her, confused.

_What indeed? Okay, time for the hard part. Deep breaths! Not too deep, though. Don't pass out. That wouldn't help anything. Although then I wouldn't have to tell her right away. Big plus. But it's too late to back out now, and I could _really_ use some advice. Come on, Willow, just say it. Just say it. Just say it. _

"Well…" _justsayitjustsayitjustsayit._ "I'm pretty sure it belongs to… the person I had sex with."

_There. It's out. Too late to call it back. She'll figure it out in a minute now, and everything's gonna change._

Buffy frowned at the shirt like it was a particularly mixed-up Rubix cube.

"But… it's a girl's shirt," she argued simply, looking from the garment to Willow and back.

Willow nodded silently, looking down at her thoroughly shredded sandwich. _Any second now…_

"Oh…" came Buffy's voice. Higher than normal, Willow noted. And a little strangled. Surprised. "_Oh_…" She could see Buffy start to fidget out of the corner of her eye. "I see…"

"Yeah."

Buffy stood abruptly and shifted restlessly from foot to foot. She let out a huff of air and scratched her head, opening and closing her mouth a few times while she decided what to say.

"So… you… with a girl…?" she attempted to ask, unable to come up with sensible enough words. Willow just kept nodding.

"Looks like it."

"Well… that's… I mean… wow."

"Yeah." She watched Buffy begin to pace nervously in tight circles. "Are you wigged?" she asked, almost rhetorically. Buffy paused mid-step, shaking her head and waving her arm, a strained smile on her face.

"What? Me? No, no way. I mean… it's not like I've never done crazy things while under the influence. Better… _that_… than burning down a building, right?" Her voice was high-pitched and unconvincing. The pacing resumed.

"You're wigging," Willow accused. "You can't wig. I'm already wigging. We can't both be wigging. No good can come of simultaneous wigging."

"I'm not. I'm just… surprised. I mean… a girl… That's pretty weird, right? That's not a normal thing for you, is it?"

Willow froze. It almost sounded like an accusation. She tensed defensively.

"Of course not. You think I was planning that?" the redhead demanded angrily. This time, Buffy flinched.

"No, I just… I know I haven't been around much, but you've been acting kind of off for awhile. And people change a lot in college sometimes." Buffy continued moving her hands more than usual. She always moved more when she was uncomfortable. Or threatened.

"This isn't like that," Willow asserted. _I think. I mean, I would know, right?_

Buffy slowed her pacing to a stop.

"Then… what does it mean?"

_I wish I knew. _Willow brought her hands up to support her head, which was feeling heavier than usual. _Too many thoughts._

"I… I have no idea."

They were silent for several minutes. Finally, Buffy dropped her arms and sat back down on the bed, looking Willow in the eye again. She pulled her legs up and crossed them, settling in.

"So… what's she like?"

Willow frowned, raising her head to look at Buffy. She looked calm. Composed. Sincere. The wigging had apparently passed for the moment. She was ready to be Supporto-Gal. And she wanted to know… what the girl was like?

"What?"

"Your one-night-stand girl. What's she like?"

"Oh." Willow hesitated. She hadn't expected that. "Well…" _How do I describe someone I've only actually met once?_ "She's really pretty. A little taller than me, and curvier." _That's good. Physical description. Good. Easy._ "She has long blonde hair, but I think she might dye it, because the roots are brown." She dug deeper for more to say. _Well, what have I seen her doing? Feeding ducks?_ "I think she likes animals." _Always in the library. And she had a book in the cafeteria._ "And I'm pretty sure she reads a lot." _And I've never seen her with anyone else._ "She might be kind of a loner." _And her voice was just a little odd. Something about it…_ "I don't think she's local." _But she tried to take care of me, before I threw it in her face._ "And she's really sweet." She tried to think of more to say, but the well was all tapped out. Still, she was surprised by how much she had come up with. Buffy raised her eyebrows semi-playfully.

"So, you bagged a gorgeous, sweet, lonely, well-read, out-of-state animal lover. Not bad for your first college fling. It could be a lot worse. I mean, she's no Parker, right?"

"Right…" Willow wasn't sure whether to be suspicious of Buffy or not. She had been dreading this conversation so much that it was hard to even believe it was happening. And so far, Buffy hadn't stormed off or disowned her or given patronizing advice. She had even recovered from her momentary freak-out pretty well. Willow forced herself to relax just a little. _Maybe she's really kind of okay with this._

Buffy chewed her lip and fidgeted with her hands as she thought over the situation.

"So how did she react to all this?"

Willow sank a few inches from shame. Her stomach clenched a little, reminding her of her guilt. Again.

"I… didn't really give her time to react. Like I said, I kind of just ran off first thing in the morning. Hence the shirt."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Not my finest moment." _Or my finest week, apparently_

"And you don't know her name?" Buffy guessed.

"Nope." _Because I'm just an awful human being and didn't even think about asking._

"And you haven't seen her since?"

"Oh, I've seen her. In the library. And the park. And the cafeteria. I just kind of ran away or hid every time." _Because on top of all that, I'm also a coward._

"Oh." Buffy looked like she was finally catching on to the magnitude of the mess. Willow felt the guilt gnaw at her stomach like acid. Also, hunger. She hadn't eaten her sandwich yet.

"Again, not my most shining social skills. I just don't know what I'd say to her. I don't even know what happened that night. I don't know if I started it, or if she started it and I just went along with it, or if I really didn't know what I was doing." _If I secretly wanted her and that's why I've been having super-sexy dreams about us every night…_

"Well, maybe this is me saying the obvious thing, but… couldn't you just ask her?" Buffy asked. Willow blushed.

"Well, if you want to be logical about it…" Her response provoked a mutual smirk.

"I mean, if you just ran off, she might not know you don't remember."

"I know." _She's right. I know she's right. But…_ "I think I really hurt her, Buffy."

Buffy smiled sadly.

"You didn't mean to. You were just scared, right?"

"Yeah." _Terrified is the word that comes to mind. I was kind of in Terra Nova there. A new world. Or maybe Terra Incognita. Or Terra Ignota. An unknown land. Why am I thinking in Latin? Anyway, it was one heck of a weird situation._

"You can fix it, then, can't you? Just take her the shirt as a peace offering and explain what happened? Set the story straight?" Buffy appealed, offering her the offending blouse.

"I guess. I just… _really_ don't want to have that conversation, you know? Talk about awkward. Not to mention humiliating." _And potentially existentially disturbing._

"Well, I don't think there's another way around it. Right?

Willow sighed.

"Right."

"So you'll talk to her?"

"After classes are over for the day." _And after I hyperventilate for awhile until I build up the courage. And then… back to The Room. Terra Nova.  
><em>


	7. Tara

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language and mentions of sex. But not in this chapter so much.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: Meh. I was hoping to get a little more work in on this, but it turned out kind of super long (at least for me). I got it fixed up a little, and I'm at least a lot happier with it than last chapter. I was going to tack the dinner scene on at the end of this, but I think there's more than enough here to justify a break, and dinner's going to go pretty long, too. I think it's best that it gets its own chapter. Dinner will be much more lighthearted. I think you'll all like it. For now, enjoy having our two lovely girls in the same room at the same time, talking for the first time since the prologue.

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><p>Chapter 7:<br>Tara

Willow cursed her own cowardice as she paced in front of her mystery girl's door. She still couldn't think of her name. She held the neatly folded shirt in both hands, clenching and unclenching as she tried to delay the inevitable. Students passing by were starting to give her strange looks, but she was pointedly ignoring them. They had nothing to do with this mission.

After several minutes of convincing herself not to run away, she finally took a deep breath and held it while she rapped her knuckles against the door. She wasn't sure whether to hope someone answered or not. Either way, it creaked open within a few seconds, and the pretty blonde girl with blue eyes stood on the other side, wearing a shocked look.

"Willow?" Her voice sounded so surprised it almost crossed over into frightened.

"Hi. I, uh, I know you probably don't want to see me after… everything… but I kind of had some questions. About the other night. Do you think I could come in for a second?" It sounded forced and lame even in her head, but it was the most neutral thing she had been able to come up with in all of her planning and practicing. The blonde hesitated, half-hidden behind the door. "Please?"

At the final plea, her mystery girl nodded shyly and inched back to admit her. Willow stepped inside and looked around the room. She hadn't given it a really good lookover Saturday morning, and she was surprised now by some of the things she saw. Not only did books overflow the bookshelves, piling up on the desk and floor, but some of them looked ancient, like the ones from Giles's collections. The decorations were, to put it generously, eccentric. Odd paintings and posters hung from the walls and door, and she thought she saw an umbrella stand full of ostrich feathers in the corner. Not to mention some of more esoteric artifacts that were scattered throughout the room. Including one on the desk that immediately that caught her eye.

"Is that a Doll's Eye crystal?" Willow asked curiously, inspecting the jagged, pale purple crystal with a slack jaw. She couldn't believe this girl had one- they were _extremely_ hard to come by. She herself had been searching for one for months, with no luck to speak of. The girl gave her a bewildered look.

"Um… yes? I-is that one of your questions?" Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

Willow shook her head to reorient herself and sat down in the desk chair, still studying the crystal.

"No, no. I just wanted to ask a few things, you know… about what happened… and how it happened… and stuff…" she trailed off lamely. She suddenly wished she had practiced this part more. There was a pregnant silence as Willow tried to find the words she wanted and the other girl just stared at her, trying to puzzle out her real question. The silence stretched until it was almost unbearable.

"I didn't think you'd… you know… come here," the girl said finally, taking a seat at the foot of her bed. For the first time, Willow really looked at her. _Well, I guess my memory's not quite as bad as I thought. _The girl was, obviously, not naked this time. In fact, she was dressed pretty conservatively for Southern California, even for winter. Her shirt was patterned blue and had long billowy sleeves that partially covered up her hands, although its hem revealed the tiniest slice of her waist before her heavy, dark, floor-length skirt took over. Her hair was neater this time, but it still revealed the dark roots in the zig-zag part. Her eyes were trained slightly down, and her hair swept forward to shelter her face by a few inches. She perched just on the edge of the bed, her arms crossed defensively over her stomach, waiting.

"Yeah…" Willow abruptly realized that she was staring and jerked her head back to the desk, sucking in a quick breath. "Well, I was looking at this shirt this morning and I realized it wasn't mine, which I think means that I stole it from you– accidentally, of course!– as I, you know, kind of sprinted out the door the other morning. And I thought that I should probably give it back to you and get mine and maybe explain some things and, well, ask a whole bunch of questions." She glanced back up. "Is that okay?"

To her surprise, at some point during her rambling speech, the blonde had looked up and cracked a slight smile. Her arms uncrossed a little as her stance relaxed.

"Yeah, Willow. That's okay." She pushed herself to her feet, looking like she had suddenly remembered something important. "Oh, c-can I get you something to drink? Water? Or tea?"

"Huh? Oh, no. Thanks. I'm fine," Willow responded automatically, still trying to puzzle out the difference in her companion. The blonde nodded to herself, fetching a mug and spoon that had been sitting on her nightstand. A thin layer of steam still rose from the top. Tea, Willow guessed. She drank tea. _Old books, artifacts, and tea. She really is Giles, isn't she? _The redhead stifled a giggle in her head.

"I'm actually kind of glad you came," the mystery girl confessed, walking back to her spot at the foot of the bed.

"Really?" Willow's humor faded as she cringed inwardly. The guilt was back for Round 999.

"Yeah." The girl stirred her tea. Willow was suddenly jealous. She should have accepted her offer– it would give her something to do with her eyes and hands. Something besides fidgeting and glancing fitfully around the room. "I've s-seen you around, you know."

Willow froze._ Uh-oh._

"You have?"

The blonde nodded knowingly.

"Uh-huh. How long did you stay behind that tree?"

Willow smiled nervously, now carefully tracing the outline of the Doll's Eye with her fingertips.

"Oh, you know, not long. A couple hours, maybe."

The girl nodded and took a small sip of her drink. As she lowered the mug, her tongue peeked out to swipe her lips. Willow found her eyes stuck again. It was extremely distracting, being this close to her. It stirred up memories of her dreams. She had to put serious effort into staying focused.

"You know… you didn't have to keep running away."

Willow blushed, forcing her gaze back to the crystal.

"I thought I did."

There was a pause as the girl just watched her for a moment. Willow felt her skin burn wherever the clear blue eyes touched her.

"But here you are." She said it very matter-of-factly, waiting for Willow's explanation.

"Yeah. Well, the shirt…" Willow began weakly. The girl looked down again, towards the offending lump of fabric.

"That shirt…" she repeated distantly. "I hadn't even n-noticed it, really."

"I wouldn't have, probably, if my friend hadn't pointed it out. She saw it and remembered that mine didn't have buttons, so I kind of had to explain to her about… everything. She was a little thrown." Willow was surprised by how much she was saying. Against all logic, it felt incredibly easy to talk to this girl. She couldn't help herself.

"Oh." The blonde looked down into her mug. "Is she your g-girlfriend?"

"My what? No. No, no, no, no. My roommate, Buffy. We've been friends since High School. I don't have a girlfriend." The girl looked relieved at this information. Unfortunately, Willow heard more words spill out. "In fact, I just got out of a relationship. With my boyfriend."

The blonde's eyes turned owlishly wide.

"B-b-boyfriend?" she stuttered.

"Yeah. Well, ex-boyfriend now." Willow squirmed a little under her gaze. The girl raised a hand to her head, as though her neck could no longer hold it upright by itself. This new information made it too heavy.

"Oh. Oh boy. S-so… you aren't… uh… gay?" The shock in her voice almost covered up the shades of disappointment. But not quite. Willow felt herself turn at least three different kinds of red as she fumbled for an answer that didn't make her sound like a terrible person.

"Well… I mean… not historically, no." _Great job, Rosenberg. __No luck on that "not terrible" thing, huh?_

"Then… what happened?" The blonde wrapped both her hands around the mug. Lines of tension marked the space between her eyes. Willow sucked in a stabilizing breath and tried to keep her slightly flippant tone. She wasn't sure it was the right decision, but she thought being overly serious would make this confrontation a lot more awkward.

"It's funny; That's exactly what I came here to ask you about."

The blonde looked up, the lines between her eyes deepening.

"W-what do you mean?"

"Well, here's the thing… You know how I had been drinking that night?"

"Yeah." The girl blushed lightly. "We both were."

"Okay. But I think I might have had a little more than you. Or a lot, probably. I mean, I had already had at least three cups before I even saw you. By the end of the night, I must have been…" She paused to take another quick breath and think of a fair description. She was surprised by how nice the room smelled. The dusty, almost spicy scent of the books was partially smothered by the heavy floral aroma of the large pillar candles scattered around the room. It worked, though. The smell reminded her of practicing magic. She inhaled again, more slowly and deeply.

"You were a little far gone," the blonde admitted, one corner of her mouth twitching up into an almost-smile.

"That's just it. I was _gone_. I mean, really gone. Not just drunk, but absolutely not there." Willow tried to emphasize the point by waving her hands around violently. "I just… blacked out, I guess. I don't really remember everything that happened."

"W-what do you mean?" The girl set her mug down by her feet and straightened up seriously. "What don't you remember?"

Willow looked at her former lover, suddenly wishing more than ever that she knew her name, knew anything about her. It wasn't fair to her, to either of them, that her memory had abandoned her like it had. But she wasn't doing them any favors by delaying the confession. It didn't matter; as soon as she looked into the girl's eyes, the words came loose again.

"Anything, really," fell from her lips. The blonde continued watching the stressed redhead, apparently still trying to puzzle out the implications of that answer. In the interim, Willow's brain thought of more questions, and she found her mouth opening once again to ask one of the most pressing ones. "What's your name?"

The girl's eyebrows raised in evident surprise, then sank in disappointment. She let out a soft 'oh' as her head bowed again.

"Tara," she said finally. "It's Tara."

Willow almost winced again. _Tara. Tara Tara Tara. Of course. I should have known. Terrified. Terra. Tara. I'm such a sleazebucket. I can't believe I forgot. Why didn't I listen to Buffy? Beer Bad. Beer doesn't solve anything._

"I'm sorry," she murmured. The mystery girl- the blonde- _Tara_ kept watching the floor. "I wish I remembered. Really. I know how this must sound. You must think I'm some big sleazy jerk, which might be true, really. I mean, I've done some pretty terrible things before. Nothing quite like this, but definitely bad." She paused for a second to breathe. "I don't know why I keep talking this much. I mean, I always talk a lot, especially once I get going, but this really isn't the situation for it. I can't stop, though."

Tara raised her head a little, almost smiling again.

"You talked like that the other night, too. I thought it was just the alcohol."

Willow smiled abashedly.

"Nope. Just me."

Tara glanced up, biting her lip as though considering something very carefully.

"I thought it was cute," she admitted quietly. Willow flushed and chuckled uncontrollably. _She's sweet._

"Thanks, but it's more humiliating, really." The redhead shook her head, hoping to get back on topic. "I just wish I knew what I actually said."

"So… you r-really don't remember _anything_?" Tara looked like she was struggling with the new information. "N-n-not even…" She ducked her head in embarrassment. _The sex._

"Not really. I think I remember seeing you at the bar, but I don't remember what happened afterwards. Even the… you know."

"Wow…" Tara breathed. "That's… a lot."

"I know." Willow felt the guilt like acid in her stomach. "That's kind of why I came. I wanted to… you know… find out what happened. How it happened."

The silence between them was heavy and oppressive. Willow absently wondered if they would be better off if they weren't trapped in the tiny dorm room.

"So…" Tara raised her hand and rubbed the side of her head for a few seconds. "S-s-so you don't remember me at all… and you were so drunk that night that you didn't know what you were doing… and you're straight. With an ex-boyfriend." The blonde gave her a helpless look. "Right?"

Willow bowed her head.

"Yeah." She swallowed, feeling the burning in her stomach intensify. "Did I mention how sorry I am about all this? Because it's a lot."

"I just… I don't understand. Everything seemed fine." Tara frowned to herself, withdrawing a little. Willow shivered.

"Tara…" The word tasted oddly familiar on her tongue. "What did I do? That night?"

Tara blushed at the question, her ears turning bright red.

"You were… you were just really sweet."

Willow tilted her head. _Sweet?_

"But… how? What did I say? How did we… get to where we got to?"

Tara's face darkened even more. She shook her head slightly, trying to dismiss the question.

"I don't know, Willow… it just… feels weird. Saying it. It's kind of private, isn't it?"

"Trust me, if anyone gets how weird this conversation is, it's me. But I have to know. _Please._" _You can't just leave me like this, not knowing. Can't you imagine how scary that is? Don't do this to me._

Tara just shook her head, dipping it until her hair obscured her face.

"I c-can't."

Willow hopped to her feet, stepping close. She could feel desperation setting in.

"Tara, please. You're the only one who can tell me what happened. _Please_."

She stood directly in front of Tara, and heard her barely audible voice. She had noticed the girl stuttering throughout the conversation, and wondered if that was normal or if she was just nervous.

"It's t-too embarrassing."

"What do you mean? Why embarrassing?"

Tara shook her head. If possible, her voice got even smaller.

"I just… I thought… it w-was going so well…"

"Tara…"

"But… it wasn't, I guess."

"Hey…" Willow knelt down until she could see her companion's face. She looked absolutely mortified. "I'm sorry. I wish I knew what I was thinking or feeling that night." She swallowed, trying to moisten her dry throat. "I don't think it was just a weird fluke, though. I've had flukes, but I've never done anything like that before." _I really should have taken that tea._ "And I've been… having these dreams. About us. I don't know if they're real or not, but I can't stop thinking about it. That's the other part of why I'm here." She closed her eyes and continued onward. "I wanted to see you again. I was just scared to talk to you about all this. I'm kind of a dummy sometimes."

"Willow…" Willow opened her eyes. Tara was looking at her with something resembling sympathy. "It's okay. You d-don't have to worry about me. I'll be okay."

"That's not what that was about."

Tara looked like she was about to speak, but she seemed to cut herself off, shaking her head.

"Do you know how confusing you are?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. She looked tired.

"People tell me sometimes."

One side of Tara's mouth perked up.

"Well, as long as you know…" She looked to the clock on the wall. Willow panicked momentarily. Tara was going to ask her to leave, but she wasn't done talking yet. She still didn't know anything about the mysterious girl. What was her last name? What was with the magic stuff? Was she a witch? Where was she from? What was she studying? Why had Willow approached her that night? What did they talk about? How did they get to her room? How had the romantic stuff started? How had she reacted to it? If Tara kicked her out now, she might never find out. As was becoming a horrible trend in this girl's presence, her mouth started talking before her brain could tell it to wait up.

"Do you want to go to dinner with me?"

Tara's eyebrows crept upwards incredulously at the offer.

"Willow, you d-don't have to do that. I mean it."

"I know. Tara." _I know her name now, so I can use it. Tara. Tara. Tara._ "I just… want to. Like as an apology. I owe you that much at least. I mean, I didn't exactly stay for breakfast, which I think is pretty traditional. And I still have questions for you. And, you know, I heard they fixed the fro-yo machine in the cafeteria, so that's pretty exciting. Really, who could say no to fro-yo? It's even fun to say!"

Tara shook her head, giggling uncontrollably at her desperate enthusiasm. Willow perked up. _Maybe she wasn't lying when she said she liked the babbling._

"Alright, alright." Tara gave in, offering Willow a shy smile. "You know, you're just as charming sober."

Willow grinned.


	8. Dinner

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language and mentions of sex. But not in this chapter.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: You can probably see why I originally wanted this at the end of the last chapter– it's a little bit lighter. So… sorry about last chapter. I guess the last chapter was… too awkward? Too serious? Too long? Not edited enough?  
>They're going to have to work a little for this relationship. Stick with me, they'll get there. And we're on our way into familiar territory.<br>I'm also going to throw up a bonus chapter on Saturday to help tide you over until the fun parts (only another chapter or two away!).

* * *

><p>Chapter 7.75<br>Dinner

The walk out of the dorm was relatively quiet. Willow could feel Tara's eyes on her the whole time, but every time she tried to catch the gaze, the blonde turned her head.

As they exited the building into the warm afternoon sun, both girls breathed a small sigh of relief. Out of the oppressive room, in the open air, some of the claustrophobic tension eased, and they fell into step walking along the sidewalk.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Willow asked conversationally, after struggling to find a good way to engage her companion. Tara shook her head in the negative. Willow suppressed a sigh of relief. She had at least gotten that much right. "I didn't think so. I'm local. Born and raised in good old Sunny-D."

"I know," Tara stated matter-of-factly, a gently teasing glint in her eye.

"Oh. Right." Willow blushed. "I probably mentioned…"

"You did," Tara agreed, smirking.

"Well, this isn't fair. What else do you know about me?"

Tara gave her a long, deliberating look that had Willow squirming on the inside. Finally, she answered, ticking each fact off on her fingers.

"You've lived here your whole life. Your parents wanted you to go to an Ivy League school, but you wanted to stay in Sunnydale because 'there's so much going on here.' You took some French in High School but don't remember much of it. You love computers and know a lot about them. You're afraid of spiders, frogs, and ponies, but you couldn't really explain why. You like school and you read a lot, but you don't really like music. Or at least you don't like talking about music. I couldn't really tell which." Tara paused at this point, trying to think of more.

"I really said that much?" Willow blurted out, gaping not only at the wealth of information she had apparently given out, but also by how much of it Tara remembered. The blonde nodded to her question. "Wow. I must have been chatty."

"You were. I liked it, though. It was fun. Talking like that." Tara smiled shyly at the admission, and spent the next several seconds avoiding Willow's gaze. Willow was struck by the difference between relaxed Tara and nervous Tara. Nervous Tara was afraid to talk, had a tendency to stutter, tried to hide, and avoided eye contact. Relaxed Tara had a quirky smile, vibrant eyes, and a lightly teasing sense of humor. It reminded her of her split-personality dream, and she wondered how to bring out more of her happy side.

"Well now I feel like a jerk again. I still don't know anything about you. Well, I have some guesses, but I don't know if they're true." _Liking books and ducks isn't a whole lot to go on…_

"It's… it's okay. I m-mean, it's not really your fault if you can't… remember." She trailed off towards the end, and the embarrassed, vulnerable look overtook her face again as she seemed to run out of words.

Desperate to fill the suddenly awkward silence between them, Willow attempted small talk for the rest journey, which– in her opinion– failed miserably. Her companion didn't seem to mind, though. For the most part, Tara seemed genuinely interested in her observations and amused by the frantic overclarifications that followed them. Of course, whenever the redhead caught her smiling, she would duck her head slightly or smother the grin.

Although she had relaxed considerably by the time they reached the cafeteria, Tara didn't really speak again until they were seated with their food. They had taken a secluded corner, where Tara immediately sat with her back the wall. She held an apple in her hands, turning it over and over as she finally worked up the nerve to speak again.

"So…" She glanced fleetingly up at Willow and glanced around them before returning her attention to the apple. "You have a b-boyfriend?"

Willow's head popped up instantly. _She thinks I…_

"Had," she corrected. "We aren't together anymore." She still got a twinge in her stomach saying it, but it was hardly noticeable given the amount of tossing and turning it was currently doing anyway. Tara looked up at her answer, her eyebrows raised.

"For how long?" she asked cautiously. Willow scratched the back of her neck, trying to think of a good way to explain it. _There really is no good way to explain it,_ she decided.

"It's a little complicated," she began. When Tara's eyes didn't lower, she continued. "About a month ago, he had kind of a… let's say an 'identity crisis'… in which he also happened to cheat on me. So he left to go find himself." _And the cure for his uncontrollable wolfiness._

"And you… um… broke up with him then?" The apple had stilled in Tara's hands.

"Not exactly," Willow admitted. "He didn't really give me time to react. He just said he couldn't be around me for awhile and left." _After having sex with another werewolf and trying to kill me._ "I haven't heard from him since. I guess he's out somewhere looking for answers, but… I don't know where. So I kind of just… decided we aren't really together anymore." _As of… Saturday, pretty much._

Tara frowned, nodding in acknowledgement. Her eyebrows scrunched together.

"Wow. He sounds…" She let the sentence hang, as though she were trying to think of a polite way to say 'like a huge jerk.'

"I know that sounds really awful, but it's…" _Okay? Irrelevant? Not his fault? "_…a much longer story than that. I'm not explaining it very well." She shrugged helplessly. She didn't really wanted to get into the 'he was a werewolf' details then and there. "Anyway, at this point, I don't even know if he's coming back. He sent for his stuff on Friday. That's why the drinking."

"Oh…" Tara's expression softened in sympathy. She looked back to her food, the apple and a bowl of soup, which was still untouched.

"Have I mentioned how sorry I am about that, by the way?" Willow added, smiling nervously. Tara smirked.

"In the past five minutes? No." She shook her head, her voice softening. "You don't need to be sorry about it. Really." She sounded surprisingly serious.

"I just… never mind." _I'm just sorry I hurt you. And I'm sorry I don't know what I'm feeling now, let alone Friday night._ Willow sighed. "So, what about you? Do you have a girlfriend, then?"

"No," Tara said, blushing. "I d-don't really go out much."

Willow's interest was piqued by this new information. Sure, she came off as shy, but given how comfortable Tara had been Saturday morning, it almost seemed like waking up with strange, hungover girls was a regular occurrence for her. Not to mention the mystery of the magic supplies, which were so numerous and varied that Willow had assumed she belonged to a sizable coven. She gave Tara a slightly suspicious look over the top of her milk carton.

"No, you just stay in and bend the forces of the universe," she accused lightly. Tara's eyebrows shot up.

"W-what?" she stammered, thrown by the suddenness of the question.

"Magic. You practice, don't you?" Tara nodded. "For how long?"

"Always," she answered automatically. "Well, since I was little, anyway."

Willow was impressed. So mystery girl was a lifelong witch. She was probably super-powerful. Stronger than Amy, even. And that meant that all those ancient texts and magic artifacts were hers alone. Willow repressed the urge to whistle. That was a _lot_ of magic.

"That's so cool. I've only been practicing for about a year. You must be really good."

"Not really." Tara blushed deeply. "S-so you really are a witch, then?"

"Yeah. You didn't know?" Willow had assumed that she would have expressed her affinity for magic sometime before her cursory knowledge of French or her fear of tadpoles, but apparently not. Tara kept her attention on stirring her soup, only glancing up fleetingly.

"I, um… I had a feeling you were. Your energy… it's so powerful."

Willow laughed, shaking her head in disagreement. _That's a good one. I think powerful magic users don't get blown up with their own minor spells as often as I do._

"Powerful? Me? No way. At least half my spells fall flat, and at least half of those involve backfiring, like fire and explosions and things flying and breaking. And my potions always end up… well, turning into soup. And not even good soup. Pretty awful soup."

Tara's mouth pulled up into a half-smile at her self-deprecation.

"That just means you need better control," she explained, looking at her through her eyelashes as she finished off her now cold soup.

"Probably," Willow agreed. An interesting plan was forming in her busy head. If Tara was a super-powerful, life-long witch with all those books and crystals, she probably knew a ton about magic. And if she knew a ton about magic, then she could tell Willow all about what she knew. She could teach Willow how to control her powers. Buffy and Giles and the others would be so impressed when her spells actually started coming out right. She would just have to ask Tara. And probably talk her into it. At length. "You know, I didn't think there were any real witches on campus."

"W-weren't you looking for some?" Tara asked. Willow looked at her questioningly. "Isn't that why you went to the, uh, the Wicca group?"

Willow frowned.

"Did I talk about that, too?"

"No," Tara looked down again, but her bowl was empty. "But I s-saw you there. At Orientation."

Willow immediately began racking her brain. Orientation. She had gone to that. Everyone had introduced themselves. Had Tara really been there? Surely she would have noticed. _Except Oz…_

"It's okay," Tara said, still addressing the table. "I know you p-probably don't remember much from it." _Great, so she thinks I'm some crazy amnesiac running around, forgetting everything. _"You were p-pretty distracted. You kept, um, looking out the window." _It was a wolf moon. I couldn't concentrate. __She notices everything, doesn't she?_

"Wait… so when we met at the Bronze, you recognized me?"

"After a minute, yeah." Tara blushed. "You… you kind of stand out. Make an impression."

"But I didn't recognize you," Willow finished with a sigh. Tara shook her head. "Tara…" The frustrated redhead took a breath to ask yet again. "What happened that night?"

"I… don't think I can t-tell you." Tara shook her head. "And… if you're s-straight, wouldn't you rather pretend nothing happened, anyway?" She tried to sound upbeat and persuasive, but her nervousness easily bled through.

"I can't. I have to know what I did. What we did."

"Willow…" Tara pleaded, wordlessly begging her to drop the subject. Willow couldn't. _This is starting to get ridiculous. Now we're just pleading with each other._

"_Please_? Tara, you have to tell me. You can use hypotheticals, or write it down or something if you don't want to just say it. But I really have to know. Please."

Tara gave her a pained look. She was obviously torn between wanting to help and wanting to hide. Willow tried to coach her features into an even sadder, more desperate expression. She knew that Tara didn't want her to feel bad, so she was hoping it would give her the extra push she needed. It worked. In a very uncertain voice, Tara finally began to speak.

"Once upon a time… there was a girl…" she began, pushing her tray away from her so that she could lean against the table. Willow blinked at her dumbly for several seconds before she caught on.

"Oh. _Oh!_" _A story! Perfect! Good idea!_ "What was her name?"

Tara chewed her lip while she thought.

"Goldilocks," she answered eventually. _Blonde hair. Tara. Cute choice._ Willow nodded eagerly, prompting her to continue. "She didn't usually like noise and crowds, but some girls at school had invited her to… to a very special party, where there would be music and games and all sorts of fun things to do. So she went. But they didn't show up. So she just sat there by herself." Tara looked down at her hands, the crease between her eyes back again. Willow felt her heart ache sympathetically. "But then, all of a sudden, this other girl came over. Goldie remembered her, and the girl gave her a big smile, and she didn't feel so bad."

'Me?' Willow mouthed. Tara hesitated again.

"Her name was… Little Red Riding Hood." Willow blushed lightly._ She's funny. Odd, but kind of funny._ "Goldilocks was happy at first to see a friendly face, but Little Red disappeared just as suddenly as she had appeared, leaving Goldie all alone again. So Goldie waited there. And, just as she had hoped, Little Red came back. She sat down right next to her, gave her the big smile again, and asked if she was new to the woods-"

"Did I sound really drunk?" Willow blurted out. Tara spooked again and stopped her story. Willow lowered her head apologetically. "Sorry." Tara took a few deep breaths before continuing.

"So… Little Red got Goldie a, uh, 'cup of tea,' and the two of them started talking about all kinds of things- what they thought of the party, what they were learning in school, books they really liked to read, and lots of other stuff. And it was really nice."

"So what happened next?"

"Well, Little Red liked the music a lot, so she asked Goldie to dance with her."

Willow gulped. _I bought her drinks and asked her dance. No wonder she thought I was interested._

"Did she?" The redhead stared intently at this only source of knowledge about That Night. The blonde nodded slowly.

"Yeah, she did. They danced for a long time, until they were both tired. Then they sat back down and got more tea and talked until the tea had their heads spinning, and Little Red wanted to go outside where it was cool and quiet."

"So they left?"

Tara nodded again.

"They left the party to get some air. Little Red didn't want to go back to the party, though, so Goldie walked them home. But on their way back, Little Red decided she didn't want to go home. She wanted to go to Goldie's house."

"Oh. Why didn't she want to go home?" _Was I mad at Buffy? Did I just not want to be alone? Did I just want to spend more time with her? Or… did I actually want to sleep with her?_

"She didn't say. But Goldie didn't want to make her go anywhere she didn't want to," Tara insisted quickly. "And Goldie was pretty okay with Little Red visiting her house…" She blushed again. "Even though no one had ever visited her there before."

Willow wasn't sure if 'visited' meant 'visited,' 'dated,' or 'had sex with,' but either way, she was surprised.

"Really?"

"Goldilocks liked to stay in her house, where… there were no scary bears, and things were just right. So she didn't go out that much, and people didn't come to visit that often. But Little Red had been so nice and sweet, and they got along so well and liked each other so much… that Goldie wanted Little Red to come visit her… as long as Little Red wanted to, too."

"And she… Red… wanted to?"

"She said she did. And… and Goldie thought she acted like she did. It, um, looked like they were on the road to becoming great friends."

"And what happened then?" Willow's throat felt dry.

"You know what happened then." Tara's storytelling voice faded as she looked around them nervously, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation.

"Only in the most general sense." _I'm still not even sure how two girls… well, it seems complicated. Maybe there are levels…_

"I told you, I can't tell you." Tara shook her head again. Willow sighed. It was no use forcing the issue here. Not only were they in public, but they were also about to get a rush of dinner-goers.

"You know I'll get it out of you eventually," she said, half-teasing, half-serious.

At this, Tara looked up in surprise.

"Eventually?" She seemed a little confused by the word. Willow nodded resolutely.

"Yep. However long it takes."


	9. Terra Incognita

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language and mentions of sex.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: I like this chapter. I've been stressing myself out lately about writing this, and I kind of abruptly realized how stupid and pointless that is. So I took a chill pill and sat down to just write what I wanted to write and I'm pretty darn happy with it. And I got to use the word "guttering." It's a good day. Consider this a bright spot in all the awkwardness, and enjoy.  
>AN2: I'm still posting chapter previews and update info and story info on my profile page, so you can check that if you're ever wondering what's coming up. The next chapter, by the way, is entitled… "Hush."

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><p>Bonus Chapter!<br>Terra Incognita

Tara pushed the door shut as Willow departed, shirt in hand.

_Goddess, what a day… What a week… What a year… … …What a girl… _She dropped her satchel at the foot of her bed and plopped into the chair at her desk, feeling both exhausted and exhilarated.

_More like three girls really_, Tara decided, pulling the Doll's Eye towards her and rolling it from hand to hand.

First, there was Her Willow, the Willow that approached her Friday night, tipsy but cheerful. Her Willow was fearless, sweet, affectionate, and unbearably charming. She spent the whole evening staring openly at Tara like she was the most fascinating thing on the planet, and she spent the night convincing her of that fact. Tara liked Her Willow. A lot. More than she had any right to after only one night together.

Then, of course, there was the Anti-Willow, who woke up in Tara's bed in a blind panic and sprinted out of the room, tripping over half-hearted apologies, ignoring/stomping on Tara's feelings, and apparently committing petty theft. The Anti-Willow couldn't get away from her fast enough and wasn't ashamed to show it. She didn't like Anti-Willow very much.

This third Willow, though, was something else entirely. Still charming, but almost fatally awkward. Cute and babbly, but clearly regretful of what happened. Apologetic. Magical. Confused. And straight. _Allegedly._

She had never expected to see Willow turn up at her door, especially with the way she actively hid when Tara was nearby- in the library, in the park. But there she was at her door. Apologizing. Looking more uncomfortable than she'd ever seen anyone look in her life. Then again, if what she said was true and she really didn't remember a thing that happened that night, she had every reason to be uncomfortable. And, against all her instincts of self-preservation, Tara believed Willow.

Tara was the first to admit that she could be overly trusting as long as someone was looking her in the eye and not being actively mean to her. That was probably how they got into this situation in the first place. When those girls from her Ethics class (_of all places_) had invited her to the Bronze, she hadn't really foreseen… _this…_ as a possibility. Being stood up, meeting a pretty Wiccan girl, drinking alcohol, going home with said pretty Wiccan girl, and the two of them getting very, _very_ carried away together.

She knew that Willow was pretty desperate to know what happened between them, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. She wasn't the kind of girl who picked up girls at clubs and had one-night stands. She wasn't proud of what happened, although she couldn't bring herself to truly regret any of it. It had probably been the best night of her life.

If what Willow said was true, though, and she really was straight, it meant that Tara had misinterpreted every single step of their "date." To her dismay, it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility. On its own, almost everything that happened that night could have been considered innocuous. People chat with strangers without there being a hidden romantic agenda. Once they got talking, they could even buy each other drinks without meaning anything implicit by it. Friends dance with each other without wanting to kiss. People walk each other home all the time, especially in Sunnydale at night, with no expectations from each other. Friends frequently go to each other's rooms to talk or hang out, without having sex. In hindsight, nearly everything that happened could be taken as friendly. On its own. _Together, though…_

Tara sighed, abandoning her heirloom crystal and moving to sprawl flat on her bed, stretching out wearily. She hadn't slept particularly well since Saturday. _There had to be something there, right? I mean, she wouldn't have gone along with it all if she hadn't really felt anything._

She had hoped that if Anti-Willow was the real Willow, they could just pretend that nothing had happened and she could try to quash the feelings she had so immediately developed for the winsome redhead. But she didn't want to forget what had happened. That whole night had been wonderful. She had never taken to someone so quickly, never felt so special, never _wanted_ someone the way she had wanted Willow. And no one had ever taken to Tara as quickly and willingly as Willow. She had just walked up with a smile and started talking. She seemed plenty happy to fill the silences left by Tara's initial shyness, and didn't even blink when Tara had stumbled over her words. Usually, when she stuttered, people would instinctively avert their eyes or try to finish the sentence for her. Willow didn't even react, like she didn't even hear it. It was nice. She listened intently to everything she said and even laughed at her jokes, an occurrence so rare and unexpected that it left Tara flushed with pleasure for minutes afterwards. She had never felt so… _liked_.

Not to mention that, morning after notwithstanding, Willow did still seem to be interested in her. Even if she didn't necessarily realize it. Although she had appeared to try her hardest to avoid looking at Tara through their entire conversation, Tara had felt the green eyes on her more than once. Even Friday night, she had recognized that Willow didn't merely _look_ at anything. She watched them, examined them, studied them. Whatever she looked at had her full attention, like it was the single important thing in the world. Tara had never felt like that before. She wasn't sure Willow even realized she did it.

The long and short of it was that seeing Willow again had brought all her feelings to a head in the most confusing way possible. Even with the news that Willow was A) straight and B) blackout drunk the night they spent together, Tara had seen the way that Willow looked at her. She had listened as Willow blurted out the dinner invitation, surprising both girls with its abruptness and forwardness. She had felt Willow look at her in awe at her magical prowess. She had watched Willow hesitate at her door, shirt in hand, as the redhead left to return to her own dorm room. She wasn't sure if Willow would ever come back, or even call her. She hoped she would. Despite everything that happened and everything she had learned, she had managed to unearth in herself the tiniest bit of hope, a guttering candle in a dark room, that someday she would see Her Willow again, the girl who had captured her with her first smile.


	10. Hush

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language and mentions of sex.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: I don't know about this one. It's surprisingly harder to write chapter when you're trying to follow along with canon. It takes longer and I have to keep checking the actual episode and deciding what I'm going to change about it and keep in it. It probably seems a bit sudden at the end, but I'm picturing their connection being an awfully big deal, so that's how it's going to be.  
>AN2: I might do a bonus chapter on Wednesday, because I want to post their next conversation, but it would make this one too long. It will depend on length. If it's short, I'll put it up for Wednesday. If it's longer, it'll be up next weekend.

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><p>Chapter 10:<br>Hush

_They sat in an oversized armchair facing a large plate-glass window. A storm raged outside, harsh lightning shattering the night sky. Willow wasn't scared, though. The chair was comfortable, and the blanket covering her was soft. And a pretty girl sat behind her, wrapping her securely in her arms._

"_Bad storm, huh?" Willow commented, eyes glued to the window. The rain pounded the glass, the wind howled furiously, and the cracks and rumbles of thunder rattled the windowpane._

"_Only if you keep staring at it like that." The blonde cupped her cheek and gently turned the redhead to face her. Calm blue eyes grounded her. "See? No storm in here."_

_Willow smiled._

"_Guess not." She snuggled closer, sighing comfortably as her companion's warmth permeated her to the bone. "It's nice in here."_

"_Yeah." _

"_Do you think the storm's gonna stop?"_

"_It always does," Tara said wisely. She planted a light kiss in Willow's hair. Willow smiled and nestled her head under her girl's chin. The skin was so soft there, and she could hear the pulse thud reassuringly against her ear._

"_I hope it stops soon. Someone could get hurt."_

"_I wouldn't worry too much. It'll all work out in the end."_

_Willow giggled._

"_And then there'll be a big rainbow?"_

"_Gods willing."_

Willow blinked her eyes open drowsily, reluctant to leave the safe, happy place behind her eyelids. _That was different_. Lately, she had woken up every morning incredibly aroused after a particularly steamy dream. This morning, she was relaxed and comfy and just wanted to stay in bed for the next ten years, cocooned in the covers. Unfortunately, she had class today. She yawned and stretched, looking over at Buffy's bed, which was actually occupied for once. Her best friend had waited up for her after her talk with Tara for a full report of what happened. She seemed to feel bad about being AWOL so much– she had put lots of extra effort into being supportive. Willow couldn't tell if she was still freaking out or not, but she did appreciate their somewhat rekindled friendship.

Buffy sat up, yawning, and waved halfheartedly. Willow nodded back, smiling warmly. Buffy left first, heading for the bathroom while Willow got dressed. The redhead rifled through her closet, marveling at how peaceful the room was this morning. Usually, there would be people making a ruckus in the halls by now. The quiet was nice.

Moments later, Buffy came back into the room with her worried-Slayer look on. She looked at Willow and opened her mouth several times in quick succession. Willow raised an eyebrow. Buffy was… a fish? A mime? _No… she looks confused_. Buffy moved her mouth again, trying to form words silently.

"What's wrong with your voice?" she tried to ask. Nothing came out but air. A deeply unsettling feeling took over her stomach. "What's wrong with my voice?" she tried again. It just sounded like she was exhaling. Buffy was still trying to produce a sound, even trying to yell, but it wasn't working. She and Buffy looked at each other in fear and confusion. They nearly jumped out of their skin when the phone rang. Willow picked it up and started to say 'hello' before she realized it didn't work. In turn, she just stared at the phone, mystified. It was silent on the other end, too. Nobody could talk. She placed the phone back on the cradle, shrugging helplessly at Buffy.

"Giles?" she mouthed, guessing at the silent caller. The Slayer nodded grimly. It was Scooby time. This was going to be a weird day.

…

Hours later, they all still sat at Giles's house, poring over ancient demonic texts, searching for some kind of mysterious Silence Demon. Xander had given up with his and was just helplessly watching the news mention in passing the "laryngitis epidemic" that supposedly gripped their little town.

Willow was having trouble focusing on her tome. The dusty, spicy scent of it reminded her of the piles of texts in Tara's room, which just made her think about Tara. And thoughts about Tara were extremely distracting, especially when she remembered the warm, pleasant sensations of her most recent dream.

Willow wondered what Tara was doing about the silence. How had she reacted in the morning? _She's so quiet, I wonder how long it took her to even notice…_ Was she just hiding in her room, scared, waiting for it to stop? Was she wandering the streets, lost and confused, looking for help? Was she trying to soldier on like everything was normal, studying in the library or strolling through the park?

_Or…_ Willow entertained a new thought. _Maybe she's doing exactly what we're doing. She does have a lot of books like this…_ She almost chuckled, thinking about Tara sitting in her room, flipping through a book just like hers.

She almost had a heart attack when Giles rapped on her table for her attention, derailing her train of thought. It was getting late. Anya was already asleep on her text, and Buffy was pacing restlessly. They would have to go home or keep researching through the night. And whatever was causing the silence was probably about to strike.

…

The next day, they found their monster. The slide show was just wrapping up. _Fairy tale monsters. I guess that's happened before. The Kindestod, the Hansel and Gretel Fiasco… I hope there's no witch burning this time. That was… unpleasant. _Her eyes widened slightly as her mind continued whirling off on its tangent. _But if they had a witch burning, they'd have to burn Tara, too! _She frowned, thinking deeply for several seconds before relaxing imperceptibly. _She'd probably be okay, though. I mean, she's been a witch for, like, eighteen years now. She probably knows a ton of spells. She could totally hold her own against an angry mob of townsfolk. I bet she's super powerful. _Willow blinked. _Yeah. A super powerful witch. Who knows a lot of spells. And has a ton of books full of magic. _She blinked again. _That's it. Tara. Of course. I'm such a dummy. Why didn't I think of this before?_

Buffy and Xander stood up to leave the room. Buffy would be leaving to patrol once it got dark, which wouldn't be too much longer. The rest of them would, presumably, keep researching. As they walked out of the building into the waning light, Buffy turned to Stevenson, Xander and Giles turned towards the parking lot, and Willow hesitated, looking towards the east side of campus. The others gave her a questioning look. She picked up her overpriced message board and scribbled quickly.

"I have an idea. You go ahead." Giles nodded, prompting her for more explanation. "Can't explain now. See you tomorrow?" She thanked all the gods that the silence kept them from questioning her further. Giles nodded, looking slightly concerned.

"Be careful," he mouthed. When Willow nodded emphatically, the Scoobies finally dispersed. She began walking east. _Seven minutes if I walk slow, five if I walk fast. _She increased her pace. It would be dark soon.

She ended up making the trip in four and a half minutes. The campus was empty; with the silence still infecting the town and the nighttime murders still going on, everyone had bunkered themselves in their rooms. Willow strode briskly through Kresge's doors to the stairwell and began taking the stairs two at a time. She skidded to a stop in front of Tara's door and raised her hand to knock, but the door swung open before she had a chance.

When she saw someone already outside her door, Tara sprang back in surprise, almost dropping the pile of books and notebooks in her arms. Willow put both hands up, palms open, trying to reassure her. Once she calmed, they just stood uncomfortably, looking at each other in confusion. Abruptly remembering why she was there, Willow took up her message board and scribbled a hasty note.

"Need to get voices back. Spell?" she wrote. Tara's eyebrows lifted, and she retrieved one of the books in her arms, holding it out to Willow. Willow opened to the marked page and found a chapter called 'Spells of Sound and Silence,' marked with dozens of post-it notes. She looked up at Tara, eyes wide. The blonde, now all business, beckoned her in. Willow noticed the magical texts piled around the room, especially the desk and the bed, along with post-it notes, highlighters, pens, and, curiously, a student directory. As Willow looked around, Tara scribbled her own note in one of the notebooks.

"Found a few worth trying. Couldn't get supplies. Stores all closed." Her script was unbearably neat, given the circumstances. Willow quickly wiped her board with the side of her hand and scribbled a new message.

"I have some. Come with?" Willow had a small stash of ingredients in her room. Hopefully, they would be the right ones. Tara began double-checking her armful of supplies. Willow amended her note: "Need to hurry. Dark." Tara nodded grimly, halting her inspection, and went back to the door. Willow absently wondered if Tara knew about Sunnydale– the vampires, the monsters, the Gentlemen. In any case, she seemed to take Willow's message to heart with surprisingly little resistance.

"Ready?" she mouthed silently. Willow nodded.

As they exited the dorm into the open air, Tara shivered nervously, casting a wary eye around them. Willow tugged on her sleeve, pulling her on the fastest route to Stevenson. They walked quickly, almost jogging through the gaps in the lamplight. _Three minutes_, Willow thought to herself as the dorm building came into view. Suddenly, without warning, Tara paused, head cocked slightly as though listening for something. Willow pulled at her sleeve again, but the sound reached her ears, too. A sort of jangling sound, like a belt buckle.

"What's that?" they seemed to mouth at the same time, looking around. Tara saw it first– two monsters in unfastened straitjackets, with huge, swinging arms, coming right towards them. She dropped her armload of books carelessly to the ground and began running to the building, pushing Willow in front of her. Willow needed no further encouragement, and they both sprinted through the doors into the building as the grinning monsters floated ever closer.

They reached the stairwell, and Tara hesitated, panting and looking back and forth. She had never been in Stevenson before, and clearly wasn't sure where to go. Willow pointed up, towards her room, and they continued running. When they reached her door, Willow fumbled in her pockets for her keys while Tara anxiously kept watch. In the back of her mind, Willow was impressed by how well her companion was going in the situation. She heard a soft _click_ down the hall, but was preoccupied pulling her keys loose and trying to pick the right one. She only looked up when Tara urgently clapped her on the arm, eyes wide with fear. One look down the hall told her why– one of The Gentlemen had drifted out of a neighbor's room, their heart glistening in his hand. Two more 'stood' at the end of the hall. They were looking right at them and floating closer. Two of the straightjacket monsters appeared behind their masters. Willow's keys fell to the floor. _We don't have time. We don't have time._ Tara, snapping out of her paralysis first, grabbed Willow's arm and half-dragged her back to the stairwell as the monsters gave chase. They were halfway down the first flight when Willow heard the door above them click. _What was that?_ _Is it closing? Or are they following us?_ As she whipped her head around to check, her foot missed a step, her ankle rolled, and her momentum sent her tumbling down the steps, crashing to a stop on the first floor landing. For a split second, as she lay stunned, her ankle screaming and her body aching, she wondered if Tara would just run past her. Before she even had time to complete the thought, she felt surprisingly strong hands scrabbling at her, dragging her upright and supporting her injured side. As her wits returned, she leaned against Tara as they continued their descent. Footsteps pounded only a few feet behind them.

_What's even down these stairs? The laundry room. Anything else? A steam tunnel? A way out? Nope. Damn it. At least it has a lock. _That was one of Sunnydale's nicer features– the contractors seemed to know that the residents might have to barricade themselves against magical disasters at any given time, so almost every door came equipped with a deadbolt. As Tara slammed the door behind them, barely cutting off the monsters, Willow flipped the lock. They were safe. _Well, safe-ish. For now. _

They had barely secured the door when the pounding started. They were trying to break in. Tara pushed against the door, holding it closed even as it rattled in its frame. The redhead cast her eyes around the room, looking for something to help barricade them in. _The washing machines are too heavy. The change machine is bolted down. The trashcan is too light. We can't exactly use the sink. _She grasped Tara's arm and pointed to the soda machine. Tara nodded and helped her hobble over to it. Together, they pushed as hard as they could. Willow was having some trouble, though, as she could only brace with her uninjured foot. _It's not enough. _The machine had only moved a few inches– too little, too slow. She desperately put down her sore ankle to try and push with both feet, but pain shot up her leg like a bolt of lightning, and she dropped to the ground, falling back against the dryers, wincing and grasping at her ankle. _Damn it. Damn it._

As she struggled to ignore the pain in her ankle and sit up, she could feel Tara watching her. She had stopped pushing against the machine, knowing that she couldn't move it by herself. Calmly giving up, she came and settled on the floor next to Willow. Her expression wasn't the abject terror that was still gripping the injured redhead. It was almost serene. Willow felt herself calming down under her influence. _At least she's here. This would be a lot more terrifying if I were in here alone._ _She doesn't even look worried anymore. _She took a few deep breaths. Tara continued watching her silently._ What are we going to do? They're still out there, and we don't have the spellbooks or the supplies we need to stop them here. And we aren't strong enough to move the machine. Or… at least our bodies aren't._

With renewed vigor, she turned her focus to the machine. _It's just like a pencil. Like a really, really, really big pencil. _She felt her magic reach out, pushing desperately against the machine. It shuddered and lurched, but didn't move an inch. After only a few seconds, a blinding pain hit her between the eyes and she stopped, remembering why she didn't usually succeed in moving things larger than ballpoint pens. She just sat back, panting weakly as the pain receded. At the noise of the shuddering machine, Tara had turned to watch it, and now she looked between Willow and the machine with the same resigned tranquility. _Damn it. Why am I still so weak? It's been over a year, and I still literally can't do magic to save my own life. Damn it. _In the corner of her eye, she saw Tara moving, but she didn't pay attention until she felt a soft touch on her hand. Willow stared at their hands as the blonde slowly guided them up, carefully splaying her fingers and intertwining them with her own, gripping gently. She couldn't look away.

Then she felt it. _Oh my god… _She felt Tara's magical energy pushing against her own, trying to connect. She had never experienced anything like it. It was huge. Massive. Power. Real power. And it was completely under Tara's control. She felt a warmth in her chest as the energy seemed to wrap around her own, mimicking their interlocked fingers. Tara squeezed her hand. _"Now!" _echoed in her mind, and they both whipped their heads towards the machine. She felt Tara's power overtake hers, guiding it, throwing it towards the machine. The soda machine flew against the door like it was a cardboard box full of packing peanuts, not a solid wall of plastic, metal, and soda.

Willow turned her attention back to their hands. She was quivering. She had felt Tara's… _what had she called it?… _Tara's energy. They had connected for a second, and Willow was struck dumb by the experience. It had felt like being wrapped up in a huge blanket made out of sunlight. Strong, warm, comforting. It had felt _good_. It had felt like her dream. For the first time, she understood how she could have taken to Tara so quickly. Tara was _good_. She was amazing. And if that feeling she just got was what Tara was really like, then Willow could see why she would have wanted to be around her that night. She must have seen it, felt it, sensed it somehow. She must have noticed something that night that had eluded her until now.

Willow was so preoccupied that she didn't even take note of the puffs of white that flew in under the door, even when both girls breathed them in. She didn't notice the pounding at the door suddenly stop. The only thing she heard was Tara's voice finally breaking the silence.

"Willow?"


	11. Laundry Room

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language and mentions of sex. But not in this chapter.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: I don't love this chapter either. To be honest, though, I was looking back at other chapters I didn't like and I think they're better in hindsight, so maybe I'm just getting annoyed with chapters because they're tricky to write and I'll like them better later. I almost didn't get this on done in time because of a… plot bunny? Is that still a word? Anyway, if I ever want to write a Willow-and-Tara-meet-at-a-murder-mystery-party fic, I now have a ridiculously thorough outline.

* * *

><p>Chapter 11:<br>Laundry Room

"Willow?"

It was the first voice Willow had heard in days, and it rang like a bell in her head. She finally tore her eyes away from their interlocked fingers and gazed up at the mysterious girl who broke the silence.

"Tara?" she attempted to say. For the first time in days, it worked, and her voice cut through the room. They both smiled uncontrollably at the sound, even giggling softly, just to prove that they could. Relief flooded Willow's veins. It was over. They had survived. They had won. Their voices were back. The Gentlemen were dead.

"Are… Are you okay?" Tara asked, her smile fading as she lay her free hand on Willow's sore leg. Willow blinked. _Oh. Right. My ankle. My leg. My self. Ouch._

She attempted to move her foot and winced a little as a jolt of pain jumped up her leg. Gritting her teeth, she tried again. The pain was stark, but tolerable. It definitely wasn't broken. Still, it hurt, and she felt exhausted all the way to her bones.

"I think so. I think I just twisted my ankle a little. And I might have a few bruises tomorrow." _A lot of bruises._ "Otherwise, I'm fine." _But really, really tired._

Tara nodded, frowning at the offending appendage.

"We should get your shoe off in case it starts to swell," she advised. Willow nodded her ascent, and the blonde began very carefully unlacing the sneaker while its owner watched.

"What about you? Are you okay?" the redhead asked as Tara eased the shoe off with surprisingly minimal pain. The blond set it to the side and gave the ankle a quick inspection. She didn't seem to find anything wrong. Satisfied, she finally sat back against the dryers, only a few inches from her injured companion.

"I think so," the powerful witch answered. Her attention flickered back to the barricaded door. "Do you think those… things… are gone?"

Willow nodded emphatically without thinking.

"Yeah. They are. Trust me." _As gone as gone can be. I wonder if they turned to dust, like vamps. I hope they aren't slimy. I hate slimy. Slimy is my least favorite kind of demon. _Tara looked only slightly reassured, and she relaxed just a bit against the cold metal machines.

"I wonder what they were. And how they took our voices. And why they gave them back." She looked distantly towards the door. Willow gave her her full attention. _Okay, so she knows they took our voices. And that they're probably not human. I wonder if she knows about the Hellmouth. Or maybe she just knew they were magic. They were floating, after all. And she can read energies._

"Um… How much do you know about Sunnydale?" Willow tried to ask casually, gauging the blonde's reaction. Tara looked a little startled, but returned her gaze with a suspicious glance of her own.

"Enough…" she answered cautiously, watching Willow carefully. "Why? How much do you know?"

"All of it," Willow said seriously. Tara's suspicious expression faded into an interested look. "Really, though, what do you know?"

"I know… it has a mystical epicenter. And that attracts d-d-demons… and vampires… and magic stuff." She turned her eyes back to her shoes as she responded in an almost sad tone. Willow nodded grimly.

"The Hellmouth."

"Oh." Tara looked back up, her eyebrows knitted together. "Is that what they call it?"

"Some of us." Willow smiled wryly. "Most people don't know the specifics."

Tara continued watching her, seeming to puzzle her out. When she spoke again, her voice was slow and careful.

"So… I take it you know what happened? W-with the silence?"

"Yep," Willow agreed. _I guess I've already said too much. Might as well keep going. We could _definitely_ use a super-powerful witch like her as an ally._ "I'm kind of mixed up in the Hellmouthy stuff here. On the anti-demon side of things, of course."

Tara paled and clenched her skirt nervously. Willow barely noticed, already imagining how Tara might take care of a vampire. _Maybe she could set him on fire. Or fry him with a ball of sunlight. Or magic a stake through his chest._

"S-so what were those things?" the subject of her thoughts asked, drawing her attention back to the present.

"They're called 'The Gentlemen.' They're fairy tale monsters. They steal voices because the sound of a human voice is what kills them," she explained. She decided that talking was a much faster way of explaining things than slide shows.

"And they steal hearts?" Tara checked, swallowing nervously.

"Yep."

"So w-what do you think happened to them? If our voices are back, does that mean they're dead?"

"Oh, yeah. They're definitely dead now. Buffy probably slayed them," Willow responded automatically. It was just so easy to talk around this girl.

"Buffy?" Tara's forehead creased in confusion. "Y-you mean your roommate?" _Oh shoot. Did I say that out loud?_

"Uh. Yeah." _Well, she is a witch after all. And she doesn't seem that freaked, all things considered. Especially for a non-native. And she already knows the basics. And she would never tell anyone if we asked her not to. She's good. I trust her. I can just feel it. Maybe the others wouldn't be mad if I told her… _Tara interrupted her thoughts.

"Wait… did you say 'slay'? Y-you don't mean… She's not…" Tara's eyes were wide with shock. Shock and recognition. Willow frowned deeply.

"You know about the Slayer?" This baffled the amateur witch. She knew the Slayer was well-known in vampire and demon circles, but couldn't remember if it was supposed to be common knowledge for witches.

"Well, a little. I-I knew there was one here. I didn't think she'd be a student, though," Tara mumbled, looking down with her still-shocked expression.

"Yeah. She moved here in high school. She kind of got us into the evil-fighting biz."

"Us?"

"Buffy, her Watcher, me, my friend Xander, and… a few others."

Tara's eyebrows rose further.

"Wow." She blinked several times, and looked at Willow's form. "I… I, um, didn't realize it was a group thing."

"It's not, usually. Usually, Slayers slay, Watchers watch, and everyone else runs away. We're kind of a special case. We like to think we help each other survive. Sunnydale's not an easy place to live."

"I can imagine…" Tara trailed off, looking contemplative. Willow nudged her gently, causing her to focus again.

"How did you know?" the redhead questioned curiously. Tara's lips curled halfway up into a smile, like she was trying to repress it but couldn't quite manage.

"Well, it's kind of why I came here. The magical epicenter thing, I mean. I thought there'd be a lot of w-witches and stuff here. And the energy from the… Hellmouth… makes it really easy to do magic." She blushed. "A little unpredictable, though." She gave a slight chuckle. "I don't think I could have moved something that heavy back home. Even with help."

Willow perked up at the mention of the magic. Her fingertips were still tingling from where they had touched Tara. Actually, now that she thought about it, she realized they hadn't actually let go of each other yet. Tara had managed to finagle her shoe off one-handedly, and now they sat side-by-side with comfortably entwined fingers, like it was a perfectly normal occurrence.

"How did we do that, anyway?" she blurted out, gazing down at their still-linked hands. "Work together, I mean. What was that?"

Tara squeezed her fingers in recognition.

"Haven't you casted with other people before?" she asked, turning pink. Willow shook her head slowly.

"Never like that," she emphasized. _Amy, Michael, Giles, Anya…_ "It never… felt like that."

Tara's face darkened further.

"Yeah. Me neither. Not really," she practically whispered.

"How did you know it would work?"

Tara shrugged helplessly.

"I guess I just… felt it," she explained uncertainly. Willow nodded.

"I think… I think I felt_…_ _you_. Like your energy or your aura or something."

"Yeah. That can happen."

"It was nice." _Better than nice. Wonderful._

"Yeah." Tara smiled shyly. Her fingers twitched restlessly against Willow's. "D-do you think we could do it again? To move the machine back? To get out?"

Willow took stock of herself. It had been a rough few days. Lots of work, not much sleep, a tumble down the stairs, and a magic explosion of sorts. At this point, even her hair felt tired.

"Right now? I don't know. I feel kinda like a wrung-out sponge. I don't know if we could just move it back."

Tara nodded, looking back between Willow and the soda machine.

"Maybe… Maybe we should rest a little first. Try again later?" she asked. Her voice had an almost hopeful edge to it. Willow nodded gratefully.

"Yeah. That sounds good." _Yes. Good. Rest. Rest with Tara. With Tara. Tara. Good._

Tara settled back against the machines, a few inches closer. Willow scooted over, closing the gap, and rested her head against Tara's shoulder. The similarly sleepy blonde didn't seem to mind. Their hands lay entwined in her lap and they sat silently, taking comfort in each other's presence. They both soon drifted off, warm and safe on the cold, hard floor of the dorm laundry room.


	12. SemiDating: Part One

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language and mentions of sex. But not in this chapter.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: What's got two thumbs and no longer cares about East German-West German identity and how it related to the question of Reunification during the Cold War? This chick. That's my way of saying that I finished my senior capstone project and now have a shiny new BA. That's why I was so busy and had to shelve this for awhile. But now I have plenty of time on my hands. Possibly too much time…  
>Anyway, weekly updates should continue now. I want to thank all of you who keep reading this and especially those who take the time to comment. I really appreciate all the feedback and I'm glad you all seem to be enjoying the story. This is actually a sort of "Part One" to this section. I like it, but I like Part Two better. They just needed a little separation.<p>

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><p>Chapter 12:<br>Semi-Dating  
>Part One<p>

"So, lunch?" Buffy offered. Their shared psychology class had let out a few minutes early and they were now strolling through the empty halls in the general direction of the cafeteria. At the offer, Willow checked her watch and did some quick mental calculations. _Just enough time…_

"Nope. Not today. I've got someone to ambush first." Her eyes shone mischievously at the thought.

"Again? You've already seen her every day this week. What happened in that laundry room, anyway?" Buffy teased, cocking an eyebrow suggestively. Willow blushed and rearranged the books in her arms.

"We just… talked. And maybe did a little magic." _Really, really nice magic._

The Slayer gave her a long, suspicious look.

"… Is that some kind of euphemism for something I don't want to know about?" she asked finally. Willow laughed, shoving her with her shoulder.

"No! We just had to move the soda machine to barricade the door. With our thoughts. It was… cool." She couldn't help a smile when thinking about it. The warm feeling hadn't quite faded since that night.

"If you say so. Well, go on, then. Abandon me. Go find your girl." The Slayer shooed her away impatiently. Willow almost opened her mouth to protest Tara's apparent new title of 'her girl,' but decided against it. She instead just trotted out the door. She needed to hurry if she was going to get to Tara's classroom in time.

She skidded to a halt in front of the door just as the bell rang and students began pouring out. As usual, Tara was one of the last ones to leave. Aside from fleeing the Gentlemen, she never seemed to be in a great hurry. Willow bounced impatiently on her heels as she waited for the familiar glimpse of blonde hair.

"Tara!" she called as soon as her new friend appeared from behind the door. Tara looked up quickly, but didn't startle the way she had during previous 'ambushes.' Willow assumed she was getting used to her unannounced visits. The redhead had found herself seeking out the blonde almost compulsively since their encounter in the laundry room. In the preceding week, they had eaten lunch together three times, dinner twice, breakfast once, spent four between-class breaks together, and walked to or from class together no less than five times. Willow had done most of the seeking-out. Tara, for her part, had called a few times. Luckily, she seemed perpetually pleased with the redhead's presence.

"Willow!" Tara responded to her call, only slightly surprised. She offered a smile and stepped closer. Willow gave a large, goofy smile back. Tara was wearing blue today. She liked it when Tara wore blue.

"Hey." She touched Tara's sleeve briefly and began leading her down the hall towards the cafeteria. Her acquaintance/friend/crush followed agreeably.

"What are you doing here?" Tara asked, falling into step beside her.

"Ambushing you. You know, again." Willow blushed lightly at the necessary qualification.

"Well… color me ambushed," Tara accepted, nodding resolutely. Willow giggled. The blonde cast her eyes around them, seemingly searching the hall for something. "Now what?"

"I was thinking we could grab some lunch. You know, again." The redhead chuckled nervously at the repeated joke. She was always a little worried that Tara would find her constant presence annoying, or would have something better to do. "Do you want to?"

"Yeah. Sure. Always," Tara agreed with a bright smile. Willow let out a relieved breath.

"Cool." She tried to remember what they had talked about the last time they had met. _Classes, books, dogs versus cats, magic supply sources, mantis demons, mythic rites…_ "Oh! Hey, you never told me the end of that Taglarin creation story. What happened after the thing with the lake?"

Tara raised her eyebrows in momentary surprise.

"Oh. Well… do you remember the part about the bug?" Willow nodded eagerly. "That's when things got interesting…"

…

"Back again?" Buffy asked as Willow entered the room. She was putting on her Slaying clothes in preparation for the night's patrol. Willow noticed that her Slaying outfits had been getting progressively nicer as the days went by. _I bet she's dressing up for Riley. They've been patrolling together the last couple of nights. _Willow wasn't sure how she felt about the Initiative, but Riley was certainly becoming more interesting– and dangerous– by the minute. She was beginning to wonder if her best friend would ever find a real, bonafide normal guy to date. _The world may never know…_

"Yep. I'm back." She deposited her psychology books on her desk and picked up her laptop en route to her bed.

"How was your ambush?" The blonde asked conversationally, lacing up her boots. Willow smiled. She felt a little relieved every time Buffy mentioned Tara. She still sounded a little uncomfortable at times, but had managed a very supportive attitude about the whole situation, which Willow was overwhelmingly grateful for.

"It was good. We had lunch. She knows a lot about mythology, so she's been telling me lots of stories." Willow settled on the bed, putting her laptop to the side for the time being. "And then we hung out in the library for awhile. She has a work-study job there. That's why she's there all the time."

"And, what, you just stayed there for six hours? No one likes the library that much. Not even you." Buffy raised an eyebrow, silently demanding details.

"We ate dinner, too. I tried to tell her about my programming class, but I think she was just humoring me."

"Not into computer stuff?" Buffy guessed. Willow shrugged.

"A little technologically illiterate, from what I can tell. It doesn't seem to bother her, though." She lay back on the bed and stretched out comfortably, looking at the ceiling. She could still hear Tara's voice in her head. "She's really fun to talk to."

Buffy leaned against the wall, silent for several moments as she watched her rather besotted friend.

"What… _are_ you two, anyway?" she asked finally. Willow raised her head to look at her with a furrowed brow.

"What do you mean?"

Buffy pushed off the wall and took a few slow, aimless steps.

"I just mean… are you acquaintances? Friends? Girlfriends? You've only known her for, like, a week and a half, but you just spent eight solid hours talking with her. What is that?"

Willow sat up and crossed her legs. She frowned at the bedspread as she considered.

"I don't know. We haven't really talked about it. I think it makes her uncomfortable. She knows I've only gone out with guys before."

"But… do you want to go out with her?"

"Now?"

"Or, you know, eventually. Because it kind of looks like that. I mean, you're kind of… courting her, aren't you? Wooing her? Is that a real word, or am I making it up?"

Willow let out a long breath.

"It's real. And you're kind of right. I just… I haven't really figured that out yet. I mean, I like her a lot. A lot a lot. But… I've never really done this before. Not from this side. Not with a girl." She gave her best friend a helpless look. Buffy held up her hands.

"Well, there's nothing saying you have to know right now. But if she's all into you and you decide later that girls aren't your scene, this could go south pretty fast." Her voice was casual, but laced with both reassurance and warning.

"Yeah." Willow sighed. _And Tara would be really hurt. Again._

"Well…" Buffy shook her head a little, looking embarrassed at her own advice. She shuffled her feet and nodded towards the door. "I guess I should start patrol now, before things get too interesting out there."

Willow nodded quickly, waving her arm dismissively.

"Yeah, go ahead. Experts say I've got some thinking to do," she half-joked, offering a weak smile. With a quick squeeze to her shoulder, Buffy left to fight the night's terrors and Willow stayed to puzzle through her own.


	13. SemiDating: Part Two

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language (I guess?) and mentions of sex.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: This is a longer one. I'm a little mixed about it. Again. I'd been picturing this scene for a long time, but writing it almost lost something in translation. Whatever. I have a bonus chapter in the work for mid-week, I think. It'll depend on what kind of progress I make on the next "official" chapter. Next week, we rejoin canon for awhile. Hope you all enjoy!

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><p>Chapter 13:<br>Semi-Dating  
>Part Two<p>

Willow lay on her back in the darkness, her eyes closed. She felt like Tara's face was burned into the back of her eyelids. She couldn't see anything else when she closed her eyes. She had been trying to puzzle out the complexities of her relationship with the blonde since Buffy left, but had had remarkably little progress.

Tara was wonderful. It was hard to put words to why. _She's knowledgeable, magical, nice, friendly, supportive, sweet, fun, beautiful…_ her mind trailed off at this point. Thinking of Tara as beautiful led to thinking of her body, which reminded her of their first sober, naked introduction. She liked Tara. What wasn't to like? Tara was knowledgeable, magical, nice, friendly, etc. Willow sometimes even felt some Oz- and Xander-like feelings stirring when she thought about her. More-than-friendly feelings. But they were just friends. And barely that, really. But they had had sex. Friends weren't supposed to have sex with friends. So were they really friends? Or something else? Friends with benefits? Pre-dating? Semi-dating? Was there a word for that? Words were important. Words carried definitions and boundaries. Giving things the proper name made them clearer. And their relationship needed clarity more than anything.

Being around Tara made her feel better. Things just _worked_ better when she was around Tara. Instead of blowing up in her face, spells turned out beautifully. Instead of thinking about Oz, she could think about happy things. When she talked, Tara listened. When Tara gave her advice, it made sense. And sometimes, just every once in awhile, Tara would look at her in this one certain way with her clear blue eyes, and it just felt…

Willow shook her head to clear it. All this thinking about Tara was making her insides hurt. She missed her. It was silly. They had already spent eight hours that day talking. And it was dark now. It was probably a little late to call.

She checked the clock just to be sure. The glowing numbers told her disbelieving brain that it was just past one in the morning. _No way. Buffy just left. I haven't just been lying here thinking for that long, have I? About Tara?_ Her insides gave another uncomfortable squeeze. She couldn't explain why, but it all of a sudden seemed extremely important that she hear Tara's voice. Her hand reached out to the phone and hesitated there uncertainly. _I shouldn't call her. It's the middle of the night. She'll be sleeping. And she's probably tired of talking to me. And what would I say anyway? "Hi, Tara! So, that's your voice, huh? Oh, me? I'm just lying awake thinking myself in circles about our confusing relationship. What's that? You're confused, too? That's probably because I've been acting like a crazy person. Well, I guess that's all. Nighty night!" _She rolled her eyes at herself, then engaged the phone in a rather one-sided staring contest.

After several long minutes of arguing in her head and kicking herself, she snatched the phone up quickly, before she could change her mind, and dialed Tara's number. Butterflies fluttered and settled in her stomach as the phone rang. _The phone's probably just waking her up now. I hope she's not too startled._ She waited. It continued ringing. _She's probably just disoriented from waking up. It'll take a few seconds for her to get to the phone. _She tapped her fingers against the nightstand. The phone rang. _Maybe she's a really deep sleeper. Maybe she's in the bathroom. _It rang again. _Maybe she was outside and a vampire grabbed her. Maybe she's really sick and can't even get up to reach the phone._ It kept ringing. _This is Sunnydale. Nothing good comes of people not being where they're supposed to be at night._ The fluttering butterflies in her stomach turned into angry bats fighting to get out. She put the phone down. Her heart was racing. Before she knew what she was doing, she was pulling on a pair of shoes and a long, furry coat. It was a cold night.

_Three and a half minutes,_ she thought, trudging across the final patch of grass to Kresge. It wasn't damp yet from dew, which meant it was only going to get colder. As it was, she felt like if she breathed a little harder, she would be able to see her breath in the air. She gathered her coat closer and pushed through the heavy double doors into the dorm building. _Only the stairs now. She'll be up there. I'm overreacting. She's probably fine. Maybe she's just in the shower. This is college. People shower at one in the morning. Tara in the shower… _She hesitated on the stairway, her face reddening, the flush of her own embarrassment warming her back up. Pushing the inappropriate, naked, wet thoughts from her head, she continued her ascension.

She found Tara's hallway and jogged to her door, knocking softly at first. She didn't hear the shower running in the bathroom. She pressed her ear against Tara's door, listening. She didn't hear anything. The bats showed their displeasure by flapping more desperately. Willow knocked again, a little louder. There was no response. She finally threw discretion to the wind and pounded her fist against the thick, fire resistant wood. _Oh God, if she's really outside…_

"Tara?" she called, half-whispering, half-shouting.

"Willow?" came a response from nowhere near the door. Willow's head whirled around for the noise. Tara's head was popped out of an open doorway down the hall. One hand rubbed at her eyes and one foot stepped into the hallway. Her eyebrows were knitted as concern battled surprise and confusion on her face.

"Tara!" Relief flooded her system, the bats dissolved, and her feet propelled her to her thankfully undamaged friend. She caught Tara in a tight hug, breathing a deep sigh.

"Willow?" Tara tensed at the sudden, unexpected contact, one hand uncertainly touching down on Willow's back. Willow felt a little guilty. Their relationship had not reaching the hugging stage yet. "W-what time is it?"

The redhead released her, looking abashed. Tara just looked worried. _Well, obviously. It's one in the morning and I come running, banging on doors and hugging her. She probably thinks we're being attacked again._

"Um, about one o'clock," she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly.

"What's wrong?" Tara alternated looking at her with concern and flickering her eyes up and down the hallway, searching for the cause of alarm. Willow shook her head, gesturing a negative.

"Nothing. I just…" _Am crazy. I mentioned that, right? Or was that one of my head conversations?_ "I tried to call you, but you didn't pick up." She blushed at the final admission. Tara frowned slightly, not looking completely reassured.

"It's one in the morning." Emotions flickered across her face, like she was deciding whether to be concerned, offended, or flattered.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just really wanted to talk to you." Willow was starting to feel very exposed standing there in the hall, inches away from her favorite source of complication. She was starting to sweat from wearing the coat indoors, but didn't want to take it off and be left in just her flannel pajamas.

"Okay," Tara murmured uneasily. She glanced back into the room she had emerged from. It was the floor's recreation room. "Well… I guess… you can s-sit and watch TV with me… if you want."

Willow stifled a huge sigh of relief.

"I want." She grinned, following Tara into the small room. There was a couch in front of a TV, and a half-empty mug on the floor. "What are we watching?"

"Well, you've missed Antiques Roadshow," Tara commented, settling in her former seat. She still seemed uneasy with Willow's midnight visit. Willow tried to reassure her with a brighter smile and a lighter tone as she plopped onto the other end of the couch, finally shrugging off her coat.

"Oh, no, now I'll have to spend the rest of the night crying," she teased sarcastically. Tara seemed to contemplate whether or not to take the bait.

"What if I like Antiques Roadshow?" she challenged half-heartedly.

"Then you're ninety." Looking at the blonde now, Willow could see that she looked exhausted. If her eyes were any way to judge, she might well have been ninety. "What's on now?"

"A movie." Tara picked up her mug and took a sip. No steam emerged from the lid. _Not hot anymore. __She must have been here for awhile._

"What about?"

"Some kind of… possessed elevator. I think. It… um… kills people."

Willow snickered a little. _The dangers of late-night television._

"Is it scary?"

Tara took another sip and grimaced a little. _Tastes bad. __I wonder if it's cold…_

"N-not really. All the characters are… well, kind of terrible. So it isn't really that sad when it… you know, eats them." She set the mug back down and tried to settle more comfortably in her seat. She smothered a yawn in the baggy sleeve of her cotton robe.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Willow asked, watching her. She looked like she would like nothing more than a long, uninterrupted nap.

"I just… couldn't sleep tonight," the blonde admitted quietly. Her bleary eyes were trained on the ground.

"Are you okay?" Willow questioned softly. She shifted a few inches closer. Tara nodded robotically.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just… didn't want to stay in my room." Tara confessed, fidgeting with the hem of her robe. Willow could barely make out what was beneath them. _Some kind of shorts. Or maybe boxers._

"In the dark. Silent. Alone," Willow prompted.

"Yeah."

"Me too." Willow tried to offer another smile, but it felt more like a grimace.

Tara rubbed her eyes, working her way out to her temples.

"Wish I could turn my head off," she mumbled. Willow wasn't sure she meant to say it out loud.

"Busy thoughts?" She tried to prompt something more descriptive. She and Tara talked a lot these days, but rarely about how the blonde was feeling. She tended to be evasive about that. Tara looked up at her and nodded slowly. "I can relate."

The blonde offered a slightly amused look. One eyebrow quirked up a few centimeters.

"I'll bet."

"Anything I can do to help?" Willow offered. She inched a little closer. Tara yawned again, shrugging ambivalently. "Come on. Try me."

Tara gave her a long look, her usual skittishness warring with the apathy of sleepiness. She finally seemed to come to a decision, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her head atop them.

"What was your b-boyfriend like?"

Willow felt the blood rush from her face. She hadn't expected that. She hadn't prepared for that. Tara usually avoided the subject like the plague. Willow's eyes darted away. On the television screen, the elevator chomped down on a victim. A small refrigerator hummed in the corner of the room. The window showed the dark night sky behind the reflection of the fluorescent lights. And Tara sat, watching her, lethargy hiding any ulterior motive from her expression. Part of her wanted to get defensive and ask 'Why?' Part of her thought that Tara had every right to know. Part of her just didn't want to think about it at all. But Tara just stared at her with arresting, tired eyes, and Willow felt her resistance unravel.

"What do you want to know?" she asked thickly, swallowing her anxiety.

"Anything." Her voice was quiet, almost like a sigh. Willow took in a deep, but shaky breath.

"His name was Oz," she began with difficulty. "We met in high school." Tara's gaze didn't falter. "In junior year. He liked me. No guy had really liked me before. I still thought I was in love with my best friend Xander, who pretended to not notice. So when Oz took an interest, I was… I don't know… flattered, maybe." Willow wondered if there was any water in the fridge. Her mouth suddenly felt like dry cotton. She was silent for almost a minute.

"And then?" Tara asked.

"We started going out. It was nice. But… something happened. To him."

"What?" Tara's gaze didn't waver.

"He was bitten by his little cousin. Who was a werewolf, it turns out. Which made him a werewolf."

For the first time, Tara moved, raising her head a little in attention and blinking.

"A demon," she clarified.

"It wasn't his fault, though. And it was only three days a month. Kind of. We managed. It was hard sometimes, but we were okay."

"Buffy… She didn't… s-slay him?" The blonde's face had twisted into a hard-to-recognize expression.

"No, no, of course not! He was still Oz. We just had to keep him locked up on wolf nights. That's all. She would never kill a person like that."

"And you… you stayed with him?" Tara had settled her head back down, but her eyes betrayed a redoubled interest.

"Well… Yeah. We still liked each other. We were okay, all things considered…" Willow felt a low ache in her chest at the memory. _We were okay until we weren't… _"Buffy was dating a vampire back then, so it wasn't even the weirdest thing in town."

"She dated a vampire? How?" Her eyebrows crushed together at the strange thought. Willow smiled wryly.

"Very carefully. He had a soul. Until he didn't. It's complicated. He lives in LA now. He has his own little Slaying operation." She chuckled at Tara's bemused expression, but caught herself before she lost track of their real conversation. "But that's besides the point. It wasn't even the werewolf thing that caused the trouble with us. It was me and Xander."

Tara watched her silently for a long moment.

"You… cheated," she guessed, stating it as a fact more than a question. Willow thought she saw disappointment alight on her face for a split-second, but it was smothered.

"Basically. But it wasn't anything. It's not like we really did anything. We just kissed. Sometimes." She defended herself weakly. She knew that they had done something wrong. It made her sound pretty sleazy, though.

"Are you s-still friends... with Xander?" Tara's head was slightly inclined again as she waited for an answer.

"Yeah. Of course. I mean, it was weird for awhile, but we got it straightened out. We got back to being friends. And Oz took me back. Eventually." She was surprised by how hard it was to talk about these things. Tara was probably the first person she had ever told this to.

"Did you love him? The werewolf?" Tara asked quietly, her gaze intense. Willow tried to swallow, but her throat had dried up.

"I thought so. For awhile, anyway," she said cautiously.

"When?"

"I don't know. In the middle, I guess. After I cheated on him, but before he cheated on me. God, how terrible does that sound?" Willow rubbed her face roughly, trying to disperse the redness. "I don't know. The memories… they're all _tainted_ now, you know? I always thought girls sounded so immature, bad-mouthing their exes after the fact. But now… I don't know." She looked down helplessly. "It felt right at the time, I think. I thought I was in love with him, and that we would stay together. It just seems crazy now, you know? Thinking about it. Saying it out loud. It wasn't as awful as it sounds, you know?" Her voice had taken on a slightly pleading tone. Tara's gaze softened sympathetically.

"I know," she promised. She turned her eyes to the ground, deep in thought. Willow took a deep breath to stabilize herself.

"Is… is that what you wanted to know?" she asked nervously. She wasn't entirely sure what Tara had been looking for, so she wasn't sure how she had come out in the conversation.

"I guess." Tara frowned, sounding unsure.

"Did it help?" Willow felt like a jerk. Again. _It's crazy that she still talks to me._

"I… don't know yet," Tara confessed. Her head settled back against the couch, tilted slightly towards the ceiling. Her eyes couldn't decide if they wanted to stay open or closed.

After several long minutes, once the blue eyes had decided to be shut, Willow crept closer until she was right next to Tara. She could feel the warmth radiating from the blonde's body. _She's so warm…_

"Tara?" she asked hesitantly.

"Hm?" Tara's response was faint, though she did turn her head towards Willow in a sleepy approximation of attentiveness.

"Sleepy?" Willow guessed, lowering her voice.

"Hm?" Tara murmured again, shifting onto her side for comfort. She was about nine-tenths asleep already. Willow leaned forward a few inches and kissed her forehead.

"Nothing."


	14. Chemistry

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language (I guess?) and mentions of sex.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: This isn't exactly essential to the plot or anything. I just got the idea in my head and kind of wanted to write it. I also found out that if I just let my imagination wander, everything gets waaaaaaay too cryptic and metaphorical. This was supposed to be funnier, but maybe I just felt that way because of the premise. Anyway, here it is. I kind of like it. Because this is making me late, the next chapter will be posted on Sunday, not Saturday.  
>AN2: Sorry I keep falling through with my (admittedly self-imposed) deadlines. I have fewer things to do these days, but they keep taking a lot longer than I expect. I'll try to get more of a rhythm going. It's easier to make time to write when I have a stable schedule.

* * *

><p>Bonus Chapter:<br>Chemistry

Willow blinked at the starry ceiling of the dark room. She sat up, and mattress springs groaned underneath her. She was on a bed. _Tara's bed_, she noted. She didn't remember being in Tara's bed. In fact, she was pretty sure they had just been in the rec room. But they weren't. Willow was in Tara's room. On her bed. Tara wasn't in the bed, though. She was at her desk, hunched over, scribbling furiously by the light of scattered candles and Christmas lights. Willow yawned widely. Tara hadn't looked up from her writing yet. _Whatever she's doing must be important._

"What are you writing?" Willow asked, maintaining her seat on the comfy bed. Tara glanced back over her shoulder, and Willow saw that she was wearing a huge pair of glasses. And also a lab coat. She was pretty sure that those were both unusual things. She had never seen Tara wear glasses, or even contacts. She had certainly looked at her eyes enough to have noticed if she had. And while Tara's wardrobe was hardly that of a typical college student, she was pretty sure she would have noticed a big white lab coat.

"Working on an equation. It's very important to my research," the blonde explained impatiently. Her voice was unusually terse. Willow sat up a little straighter. _Equation? Research?_

"I didn't know you were doing research," she commented, her forehead creasing in confusion. Her companion gave her a long look.

"Everyone is doing research. Obviously," she stated simply. She blinked once, then returned to her scribbling. Willow wanted to go look at her work, but her legs were unwilling to leave the safety of the bed. _Who knows what might be lurking on the floor. This is Sunnydale. Anything could be under the bed, hiding in the carpet. Best to stay on higher ground._ She couldn't even see the carpet from where she currently sat.

"What's the equation for?" she asked curiously. "I didn't think you liked math." Tara had never explicitly said so, but in their conversations about academics, Willow had always picked up on her subtle distaste for the subject. Tara didn't skip a beat.

"Not math; Chemistry. Ours," she explained. "It's very important."

"Oh." _Our chemistry? She's writing equations for our chemistry?_ "Can I see it?" She tried to creep closer to the edge of the bed, but cold fear began to spread in her stomach, and she found herself freezing, although she wasn't sure why.

"It's not done yet." Tara grumbled. She seemed frustrated by this fact. She hadn't seemed to have noticed Willow's plight. "The reactants are still unstable. The results of my experiments are inconsistent. The reaction is incomplete."

Willow swallowed nervously. She thought their "experiments" had been going okay, for the most part.

"Really?" She wasn't sure where to go from there. "What are you going to do about it?"

Tara shot her a strange look, like she had said something unexpectedly foolish.

"Me? Nothing. What can I do? You're the limiting factor," she informed the frozen redhead. Willow frowned.

"I'm the limiting factor?"

"Yep. Most definitely. Our Willow compound has limited quantities of Lesbium. It's a problem. We can't form a sustainable reaction without it. There would be too much Tara unaccounted for."

Willow felt herself blush deeply. She hadn't really worked out the logistics of her orientation yet. This Tara seemed to know that.

"Are you sure? I mean… maybe we just need something else. Like a catalyst or something."

Tara frowned again, giving her an odd look.

"A catalyst for what?"

"The… reaction." She wasn't positive she was following the metaphor, but she was pretty sure reaction was code for relationship. Tara removed her glasses and looked at her seriously.

"Do you really want a reaction? Are you even ready for a reaction?"

Willow flashed back to the conversation they had just had, about her relationship with Oz.

"I… I think so. I'm getting there."

"Hmph." Tara replaced her glasses. "We're going to need more than that." She pointed an accusing finger at Willow. "Limiting factor."

"But… it's hard."

"Chemistry can be hard. That's why we wear the lab coats. They're very empowering." She tugged at her collar briefly in demonstration. "Regardless, if you really want to help, you're going to have to get a lot closer than that."

"Okay. I can do that. I think." Against all the instincts in her head screaming at her to retreat to the safety of the headboard, she crawled cautiously towards the foot of the bed. As she reached the edge, she looked down at the carpet, only to discover that there was no carpet. The floor was made of water, and the bed was floating on the surface. She gulped. The water was dark and murky– shadowy, almost sinister. Tara's chair and desk were seated safely on an anchored lily pad. If this bothered her, she didn't show it. "Tara… I don't think I can. There's nothing to stand on. It's all water."

"So go through the water," Tara said in a voice so obvious, it was almost patronizing.

"But… it's all dark. It could be super deep, and then I'd be sucked down to the bottom. Or there could be monsters in it. This is the Hellmouth. There can be some scary stuff in the water. Remind me to tell you about the swim team sometime. It's not pretty."

"Or it could just be a big, splashy puddle." Tara set her pen down and sat back in her chair. "Why are you so scared?"

"Because… I don't know what's down there." She stared nervously into the depths.

"Well… you're not going to find out by just looking at it," Tara advised.

"I know…" Willow sighed, trying to will herself to reach down and test the waters. Dread halted her hand before it came close. "But it could all go so wrong…"

Tara nodded knowingly, finally looking sympathetic towards her predicament.

"That's why it's hard. We have to do it anyway. That's life, isn't it? That's the limiting factor."

"But… the equations… we can fix them, can't we? We can… react better?"

"It's not hopeless. Things have been stabilizing lately, at least a little bit. Magic makes for a nice co-reactant. It helps stabilize things." Tara sighed, suddenly looking tired. "It's hard, though. The first experiment went beautifully, but it burned itself out so fast, so violently…" She gave Willow a serious look. "The samples are all so contaminated now."

"But… can't we fix them?" Willow asked meekly.

"How?" The blonde scientist looked lost. Willow didn't have an answer. "Everything's so unclear at this point. My hypotheses fall through as soon as I come up with them." A resolute expression settled over her face. "We need to do more experiments."

"I wouldn't mind that," Willow admitted softly. "Didn't any of them work out?"

The chemist smiled faintly and held up a sheet of paper. Willow recognized it as a combustion reaction, but there was something off about the chemical symbols.

"Our first experiment. Wildly successful, at least as far as reactions go. But alcohol is such an unstable reactant, and the sex needed something to bond to. It shouldn't have been thrown in there on its own. That's why it was so…" She removed her glasses for effect. "Explosive." She replaced them. "It was a bad equation. The reactants need to work together without the 'bad' catalysts. We need the good ones."

"Like what?"

"Ideally? Attraction. Friendship. Love. But that takes time to form, and I'm not sure all the ingredients are even present."

"I need more Lesbium?" Willow guessed wryly.

"Ideally," Tara agreed. "Friendship compounds could still stabilize the reaction. They've been playing a role in recent experiments. We'll have to see how they progress, though. How they hold up when everything else enters the mix." She cast her gaze over the murky water that still lay between them. "And you'll need to splash through that H2O and come over here."

"I want to. Really. But I'm still scared."

"It's okay. We'll just have to get you a lab coat."


	15. Having Faith

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language (I guess?) and mentions of sex.  
>Description: It's kind of an alternate ending to "Something Blue." That night Willow gets drunk at the Bronze, something a little different happens, involving a certain blonde girl.<br>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: Well, this ended up slightly longer than expected. I think because of the dialogue tags. Anyway, this obviously lines up with This Year's Girl, with my usual liberties being taken. There are definitely more of them (liberties) in the upcoming chapters than there were in Hush. It should go okay, though. I have plans. I'm also trying to bring more Tara into the picture, as she's been rather lacking. Hopefully, this satisfies your cravings.

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><p>Chapter 15:<br>Having Faith

"You sure you're okay?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Willow countered gently as they trudged through the grass back towards the dorms. She knew that Buffy's relationship with Faith was complicated, to say the least, and the elder Slayer still looked shaken from their surprise encounter.

"Yeah. I just didn't really expect to see her… like that." Buffy sighed and her gaze flitted around restlessly. "We have to find her before she hurts someone." Her voice was steely with resolve.

"What do you think she's going to do?" Willow asked. Buffy shook her head vacantly.

"I don't know. But my instincts say she's got a plan, and we're not going to like it."

Willow nodded. If anyone sane were really able to get into Faith's head, it would be Buffy.

"We'll find her," she said reassuringly. "We can split up and spread out, cover more ground."

Buffy shook her head dismissively almost before Willow had finished the sentence.

"No, Will, we can't."

"Why not?" Willow felt her hackles rising. Lately, Buffy had been increasingly more resistant to her fellow Scoobies tagging along. Willow wasn't sure if it was because of Riley or because their relationship was still strained from college. _And Tara._ Buffy gave her an impatient look.

"So what if you find her? What would you do? She could kill you, Will. And you know she wouldn't even think twice about it." Buffy's expression was dark. Willow hadn't seen her look this serious in a long time.

"Okay, so I won't go alone," the persistent redhead compromised. Buffy still looked unsure, but gave a slight nod.

"Call Xander. At least if there's two of you, you stand a chance."

"Actually…" Willow blushed at the miscommunication. "I thought I might take Tara."

Buffy paused mid-step, causing a few students walking behind them to grumble and change direction.

"Tara?" Her forehead creased. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Willow just tried to grin reassuringly.

"Totally. She's really powerful, and we work together really well. You should see some of the spells we've cast together. It's… well, it's like magic." Her blush deepened. _And they feel very… special. _Buffy looked a little skeptical.

"I know you like her, but are you sure you want her in on this? Scooby stuff?" she asked uncertainly. Willow felt a little guilt twist in her stomach. She definitely didn't want Tara to be hurt, but she also felt that, if they really did run into Faith, Tara would be a stronger asset than Xander. Besides, she had been trying to avoid Xander for the past few weeks. She was scared that she would accidentally say something about Tara and have to explain the situation. She wasn't by any measure ashamed to be Tara's 'magic friend,' but trying to explain it to Xander could easily go very wrong. What if he could tell that she liked her more than normal? What if he disapproved of them casting spells together? What if he decided he wanted to go out with Tara instead of Anya? _I mean… who wouldn't? _She struggled to refocus her mind and address Buffy's question.

"Yeah. I think she can really help us. And I think she wants to." She had never said so directly, but she often seemed to admire Willow's dedication to protecting Sunnydale and the world. She had helped with Scooby-related spells spells numerous times, although Willow hadn't mentioned this to the others yet. Buffy was right, though. This would be a much more active role.

"Well, I guess if you think it'll be safe…" The Slayer gave her a long look. They were nearly to Stevenson, where she imagined Buffy would make a round of calls to their allies.

"It will. I promise." Willow planted a look of resolve on her face, hoping that Buffy accepted it.

"Fine. But stick close to campus. And stay in the daylight. Just do a couple of sweeps and let me know if you see anything. If you find Faith, don't engage her. I mean it." She was in full Slayer-mode now, strategizing and giving commands. "Riley and I will spread out, and I'll see if Xander and Giles want in on the action. Everyone needs to be on high alert. We don't know what she's going to try."

Willow reached over and squeezed her arm. It was like trying to squeeze a steel pipe. Buffy hadn't relaxed in the course of their conversation.

"We'll be alright. I mean, she just came out of a coma and Mayor Snakehead is old, burned meat chunks. Whatever her plan is, it can't be too elaborate. It's just her."

"That could just mean she'll be desperate. And she's still a Slayer. We shouldn't underestimate her."

. . .

"Thanks for coming with me. Really. You didn't have to."

"It's fine," Tara promised as they stepped outside into the warm sun. "Um… I'm confused, though. Sh-should we be hoping we do or don't find her?"

Willow shrugged, casting her eyes through the crowd of students, looking for Faith's less-than-subtle form.

"Kind of both, I guess. If we find her, we find her, and we can do recon and maybe see what she's up to. But if she sees me, I'm in trouble. Don't worry, though. She won't recognize you."

Tara didn't look particularly reassured.

"And if we d-don't find her?" she asked, glancing around uncertainly.

"Then we just took a nice, long, tense walk around campus. And hopefully Buffy finds her and puts her back in a coma." Willow's voice took a serious edge. Tara tensed, giving Willow an odd look.

"That seems… harsh." There was a slight edge to the sentence, but Willow couldn't tell if it was fear or disapproval.

"You don't know her like I do," the redhead answered simply. It was hard to shake off a kidnapping and murder attempt. _So far, no sign of her. Good. I mean Bad. No, I mean Good._ Tara didn't speak again for a few minutes, her eyes continuing to flicker uncertainly among the nearby students.

"What's she like? I mean… w-what are we looking for?" she queried finally. Willow almost stopped walking. _Oh. I guess I never really told her about that. Good job, Rosenberg._

"The words 'cleavage-y slut-bomb' come to mind," she answered automatically, not thinking long enough to censor herself.

"O-Okay…" Tara still looked confused, but unwilling to ask more. _Maybe she thinks I'm mad at her. I'm acting pretty…on edgy-y. _Willow took a calming breath.

"I mean, yeah, there's more to it than that, obviously," she admitted. "We met her senior year. She came here after her Watcher was killed by this big grandaddy vampire."

Tara nodded slowly.

"I still don't get how there are two Slayers."

Willow smirked wryly and shrugged.

"Well, the prophecy never counted on CPR and rescue breathing. Buffy took a very, very brief turn for the dead. It set the process in motion." _God, that was so long ago. I can't believe how much has changed since then…_ "There was actually another girl, too, before Faith. But that's another story."

"So she… Faith… just showed up and s-started, what, slaying people?"

"No. She was okay at first. She had fun stories. But she changed." Willow wished she could go back and kick senior-year Willow in the head for being so friendly with the unstable future murderer. "She fell in with a bad crowd, especially the last Sunnydale Mayor. He had aspirations of giant-snake-demon-hood. Which were realized on our graduation day. But, again, that's kind of another story." _Was that really only a few months ago? It feels like decades…_ "She was always a little… rough around the edges. I think she had some emotional issues. But she and Buffy were pretty close there in the end."

"P-pretty close?" Tara raised an insinuating eyebrow. Willow took a minute to pick up on the insinuation.

"Yeah. Oh. No. Not like that. Buffy's not…" She hesitated. "Well, I don't think so, at least. Although that would explain a few things…" _Buffy and Faith? __I guess it wouldn't be the craziest thing in Sunnydale. I guess 'people who are good at killing things' is kind of her type._ "Anyway, they were out Slaying one night and Faith accidentally killed this guy. Thought he was a vampire or something. She went pretty bonkers after that. Disappeared. Started doing jobs for the Mayor. Picked a few fights with Buffy when she tried to stop her. One of them ended with Faith getting stabbed and pushed off a building. She went into a coma, and wasn't supposed to ever wake up. But, you know, Slayer, so… I guess she just got better." Willow shook her head. _It's almost kind of sad… _Tara was giving her a long, dissecting look.

"So… what's she going to do?" she asked finally. Willow let out her breath in a huff.

"That's the scary part. We have absolutely no clue. That's why we have to find her before she does it." Willow put her resolve face back on. _She won't hurt anyone else. We'll stop her. No way can she beat Buffy in a fair fight. She'll kick her butt so hard, it–_

"Then what?" Tara interrupted her inner monologue. Willow started as the thoughts derailed.

"Huh?" She gave her companion a confounded look.

"When you catch her. Then what?" Tara looked slightly concerned. Willow opened and closed her mouth a few times, lost for words. She hadn't really thought about it yet.

"… I don't know…" _We can't just kill her. She's human. But we couldn't just throw her in jail either._ "I guess Buffy and Giles will have some idea. They'll probably call the Watcher's Council on her."

Tara nodded, but didn't alter her expression.

"W-what will they do to her?"

"I… don't know." _They might kill her. If Faith dies, there'll be a new Slayer. Maybe a less murderous one. But if we give her to them and they kill her, does that make us killers? _She shook her head again, as though trying to dislodge the traitorous thoughts. Tara was really too nice for her own good. "Right now, it's just important that we get her off the streets. That's the priority. Once we've got her, we'll figure the rest out. Or someone will."

Tara nodded. She was silent for a long time. Willow hardly noticed, herself caught in this new moral dilemma. _It's not like she wouldn't deserve it. Buffy was right; she would kill me and never even feel bad about it. She almost did before. She's crazy, and she's too strong. They'd have to lock her up somewhere Slayer-proof, and another Slayer might not be called for decades. She's just too dangerous… but can we really just kill her?_

"Do you w-want to take a break for a minute? Tara asked suddenly. Willow realized that she hadn't been paying attention and they were now at the park adjacent to campus. She cursed herself for getting distracted. They might have missed Faith, or she could have snuck up on them.

"Yeah. Sure. Are you getting tired?" Willow asked. She glanced at her watch. They had been walking for almost an hour already.

"Not really. It's just… a lot to think about." The blonde looked a little embarrassed. Willow just nodded. They settled on a soft patch of grass next to the water. It was a beautiful day, as always. _Best weather in the world, but the worst demons. I guess it's a trade-off. _She didn't want to think about Faith or demons anymore. She instead turned her attention to Tara. _Definitely too sweet for her own good. _A pair of ducks on the water had spotted her and were drifting over, quacking softly. Tara was smiling at the sight.

"The ducks like you," Willow noted.

"I feed them sometimes," she explained. "I, um, think they're cute. The way they w-walk. And swim."

Willow nodded mindlessly.

"Yeah. Ducks are pretty cool."

Tara nodded, but developed an odd gleam in her eye.

"But frogs are evil incarnate," she accused softly. Willow was so surprised by the teasing that she let out a bark of laughter. The ducks fluttered, startled.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being afraid of frogs. They're weird and slimy and have big, bulgy eyes. And they start out as little wiggly fish and turn into great big hoppy things with freaky tongues– what's not scary about that?" She half-heartedly defended herself. She knew the fear was mostly unfounded, but had never managed to shake it. Tara just chuckled a little. Willow smiled warmly. She had noticed that her shy friend didn't often attempt to joke or tease. Personally, she found the unexpected snatches of humor quite endearing.

The ducks had changed their mind about approaching and began paddling towards the bridge in search of someone with breadcrumbs. Willow just watched Tara. She had one hand in her messenger bag and her smile had turned slightly strained. After a minute of comfortable silence, she pulled the object out of her bag and let Willow see what it was.

"Remember this?" she asked, moving her cupped hands closer.

"The Doll's Eye crystal," Willow murmured, bringing her face closer to inspect the purple crystal. She had been fascinated by it since she first saw it on Tara's desk. It was a very rare, very potent magical artifact.

"I've s-seen you looking at it a lot," Tara continued. Willow glanced up at her. She couldn't quite read the expression on her face. _Fear? Hope?_

"I wanted to ask you where you got it. They're supposed to be super rare. I mean, I haven't been able to find one anywhere, and I have connections," the amateur witch bragged. _Giles is a connection, I guess. And he doesn't have one._

"You know Mr. Bogarty?" Tara asked, surprised. Willow gave her a blank look. "He runs the Magic Box."

"Okay, I might have been overstating my connections." Willow blushed, chagrined. "Is that where you got it?"

Tara shook her head.

"I didn't buy it; I… um… found it. In my attic. It must have belonged to s-someone in my family. My grandmother, maybe." She traced the curves and edges of the crystal for a moment, then pressed it into Willow's hands. "I want you to have it."

Willow's eyebrows shot up to her hairline.

"What? No. No, I can't. That's too much. It's like an heirloom." _And it's so strong. And rare. And expensive._

Tara shook her head stubbornly.

"It's like a thing I found in my attic," she disagreed. Willow just tried to pass it back into its rightful owner's unwilling fingers.

"Tara, that's really sweet. Really. But I can't. It just wouldn't be right," she persisted. Tara pressed on, almost desperately.

"I don't do anything important here. I c-can't use it for anything… useful," she murmured bluntly. At the confession, her head sank several inches in bitterness.

"Tara…"

"You fight evil. You can use it to help people." She pressed it back into Willow's hands.

"I can't…" She carefully guided Willow's fingers to encircle it. Willow could feel the power radiating from the artifact, and could see the open pleading in Tara's face. "Okay. Alright. What if we… what if we call it a long-term loan or something. It's still yours; I just have it for now." She offered Tara a reluctant smile. "Is that okay?"

Relief brought color back to Tara's cheeks.

"Yeah." She visibly relaxed as Willow inspected her new treasure. She traced it with her fingers, following the same lines that Tara's had followed before._ A gift. A gift from Tara. I guess we're getting closer…_

"Tara… I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Yeah?" Tara smiled faintly at the prospect. Willow sucked in a deep breath.

"Do you maybe want to come back to the Bronze with me?" She asked, wincing a little as she predicted Tara's reaction. As soon as the blonde processed the sentence, her relaxed stance disappeared. Her fingers grasped the grass and her shoulders went rigid. Willow plowed forward, trying to explain. "I just thought… I mean, maybe if we went back there, it would help me remember stuff. About how we met. And stuff." Her mouth felt a little dry, but she licked her lips and continued. "And besides that, I just think you should give it another chance. It's the coolest place in Sunnydale."

Tara only looked slightly mollified.

"Cool is overrated," she stated simply. Willow almost laughed again, but instead put on her best begging expression.

"Please? It'll be fun, I promise. Nothing scary. And no drinking. Just us, hanging out quietly and soberly in a building with games and music and people."

Tara wrinkled her nose slightly, but her eyes shifted back to the Doll's Eye that sat in Willow's careful grasp.

"Okay…" she breathed finally. "B-but we leave if I say so. And I get to beat you at pool."


	16. Back to the Bronze

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language (I guess?) and mentions of sex.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: Sorry about my disappearance again. Grad school preparations are catching up to me, and I had a nasty case of writer's block to boot. I think I've kicked it, though, so I intend to get back to a regular weekly schedule.  
>AN2: I originally intended this to include the "Flaming O" spell, but it would have ended up being at least twice as long, which I didn't really want. So that's next week. Something to look forward to.

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><p>Chapter 16:<br>Back to the Bronze

"You're sure you're okay with this, right?" Willow asked nervously, wringing her hands as they slowly approached the converted warehouse. Her fingers were restless. About halfway through their journey, she had realized that her right hand was within easy reach of Tara's left, and that realization had proved exponentially more distracting as each second ticked by. "Because we don't have to do this if you really don't want to."

"It's… it's okay, Willow. Really," Tara reassured her, somewhat unconvincingly. Her mouth twisted up into a halfhearted smile, but her slightly bowed head suggested that she would rather turn around and head back.

"Well, here we are then." Willow gestured towards the front door, where high school and college students trickled in and out. They had decided that it was most prudent to at least walk one way in the daylight, so at this point, most of the patrons were of the younger variety. The college students would usually wait until later, after the high schoolers had left for the night. But not them. "You ready?"

"S-sure." Tara flinched subtly as the stutter came out again. Willow's hand demanded to squeeze Tara's reassuringly, but she defiantly crammed it into her pocket. She didn't want to spook her already nervous friend into leaving before she had a chance to look around inside for her missing memories. Inside her pocket, the hand began to sweat. It was an unseasonably warm night. Still, she left it there until she needed it to pull the door open and usher Tara inside.

As soon as she stepped inside the dimly lit club with the flashing lights and blaring music, a strange sense of comfort overtook her. In some ways, she considered the Bronze her security blanket, her home, more than her parents' house or her dorm. The Bronze was one of the few fixtures in her life. She hadn't been there in over a week, the longest she had stayed away since her first visits in junior high. Breathing deeply to soak in the familiar, faintly metallic scent of the place, she realized how much she had missed it.

"See? Not so bad," she commented, smiling automatically. Tara was casting her gaze around the room. She nodded absently, still offering the slightly strained smile. The redhead's grin faltered. She didn't want Tara to feel bad. "Come on." She began leading the blonde to the center of the room. As they squeezed through a small crowd, she saw Tara cringe slightly. _Crowds probably aren't her thing. No problem. _Willow carefully took her companion by the elbow and steered her around the next clot of people until they were safely under the staircase. "Better?" she asked, leaving her hand in place. Tara gave an embarrassed smile.

"Yeah," she murmured, barely audible over the music blaring from a nearby speaker. "I'm okay."

"Good." Willow swept her gaze over the familiar room, hoping for a sudden flash of insight. None came. "I still can't remember." Her voice was saturated with disappointment.

"Well, we've only been here for…" Tara looked down at the nonexistent watch on her empty wrist. "… about two minutes."

Willow flashed her an abashed grin, blushing. She knew she was being impatient. She just worried that the longer they stayed, the more uncomfortable Tara would get with being there. She was tempted to walk over to the bar, but worried that such a bold act might make Tara even more evasive about the subject. She really just wanted her nervous companion to relax a little and enjoy herself. _But how to do that… What to do, what to do… _Suddenly, something in her mind clicked._ "And I get to beat you at pool." _Willow grinned abruptly and began looking for an open pool table. They would play pool, and Tara would win. If not by skill, then by Willow's willingness to throw the game if necessary. Tara would win, and she would be happy, and she would relax, and the rest of the evening would continue smoothly.

Her eyes halted their movement as they unexpectedly focused on a familiar figure. A group of frat-type guys, having some kind of drinking contest not thirty feet away from them. And in the middle, cheering them on, a small blonde form in tight-fitting black clothing.

"Buffy?" Willow accidentally said aloud, looking in bewilderment at her best friend. She hadn't counted on Buffy being at the Bronze. She had figured she would have been patrolling for Faith from dusk until dawn, and then some. Tara followed her gaze with sudden interest.

"I-is that…?" she began. Willow just nodded dumbly.

"Yeah. I, uh, didn't think she'd be here tonight," she commented nervously. "You know, with Faith and all."

"Oh," Tara breathed, her head sinking a few inches. "Do you… do you want to leave?"

Willow hesitated, her eyes flickering towards the exit. _Tara and Buffy. Tara and Buffy in the same room. Bad. No, not bad. Good. I want them to meet. I just thought I would have more time to plan. But… we're all at the Bronze together, meeting up casually. I couldn't have planned anything better than that. It's perfect. I'll just introduce them, and they can talk, and they'll definitely like each other. It's not like Buffy hasn't been supportive so far. Once she meets Tara, she'll realize how great she is. How couldn't she? It'll be perfect._

"No. I don't want to leave." She flashed Tara a quick, genuine smile. "In fact, I think we should go say hi." Tara raised her eyebrows at the redhead's change of heart.

"Really?"

Willow just offered a reassuring smile and took her arm again.

"I want you to meet her. And her to meet you. I want you two to meet. Come on."

Tara, to her surprise, stifled a wide grin as the redhead began to lead her over. Willow's own smile intensified at the sight.

"I, um, didn't think you wanted your f-friends to… you know… know about me," Tara murmured when they had almost reached the Slayer. Willow paused between steps and turned on her heel, causing Tara to run into her side. By the time Willow found her eyes, their faces were alarmingly close together.

"Tara, no." She grasped Tara's free arm in her free hand. _Of course she thinks that. I've been so worried about myself and what everyone would think of me, I've just been hiding. Hiding her. Hiding us. Whatever we are._ "I want you to meet them. I just… I don't really know what to tell them yet, you know?" Tara nodded silently. "But Buffy knows. And she's been really good about it. I really think you'll like each other." She gave her arms a gentle squeeze. "Okay?"

Tara offered back a crooked half-smile. Willow felt relief calm her churning stomach. With that reassurance, she took the final few steps forward and grasped Buffy's shoulder. Buffy jumped and spun around quickly, hands held up, ready to strike.

"Oh. It's you." She lowered her hands and looked between her two greeters uncertainly. "Hey there, Willow and… um…" she looked at the blonde in nonrecognition.

"Buffy, this is Tara," Willow said proudly. Buffy hesitated still. Tara gave a small wave.

"Right. Tara. We haven't met yet," she said, although it sounded more like a question. Willow blushed at the implied accusation.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. I should have introduced you two a lot sooner. But, well… here we are. Buffy, Tara. Tara, Buffy."

Tara smiled shyly at the Slayer and murmured a greeting. Buffy just looked around carelessly.

"Cool." She turned about and began walking towards the couch in the corner. Willow tried to smile reassuringly at Tara, but was herself a little confused by the exchange.

"That was kinda weird," she admitted to Tara quietly as they followed.

"It… seemed kind of weird," Tara agreed.

"She's probably just hung up about this Faith thing. Don't worry." She nudged her shoulder against Tara's in what she hoped was playful reassurance, if such a thing existed.

Buffy flopped down onto the sofa, setting her legs akimbo on the table. Willow suppressed a frown. Something about this didn't feel right. Something about how she was moving was… weird. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

_Maybe she's drunk. No, she learned her lesson. And then I learned her lesson. Beer bad. Alcohol of all kinds bad. She wouldn't have done that. She must just be in a weird mood because of Faith. She'll like Tara. It'll be fine. _

Tara settled into an armchair next to Buffy. Willow briefly considered sitting next to Buffy on the couch, but almost immediately rejected the idea. Instead, she perched on the arm of the armchair, in case Tara needed support. Buffy was smiling. Tara was smiling. _So far, so good._

Willow saw the hollow of Tara's throat constrict slightly. _Nervous?_ _Thirsty? Nervous and thirsty?_

"Drinks?" Willow offered, touching Tara gently on the shoulder. The older girl glanced up at her. She didn't look too nervous, but given the situation, it wouldn't be surprising it she were.

"Water?" Tara requested. Buffy just shook her head.

"Coming up," she promised, hopping lightly off of the arm. Tara flashed her a brief, but grateful smile.

As she walked away, she glanced back at the pair. Buffy was smiling and saying something to Tara, and Tara was smiling back at her, although she threw a few surreptitious glances in Willow's direction. Willow grinned broadly and continued towards the bar. _They're making nice. Yay._

Some guy she didn't recognize was working the bar. She ordered two waters and gave the bar itself a long, hard, calculating look. _Okay, bar. It's just you and me now. Tell me your secrets. My secrets._ She remembered where she had been sitting, one of the stools on the side by the bathrooms. She stood there now, paradoxically trying to both concentrate intensely and clear her mind. She could easily picture herself there, a red plastic cup in front of her, mostly empty. She tried to picture Tara next to her. _Okay, so… she was on my right? No, my left. Definitely my left._ Looking towards Tara's seat, she could suddenly imagine it: Tara, wearing a cream-colored cardigan and a dark green skirt. And boots. She remembered boots. Tara was sitting next to her, smiling happily. Very happily. And Willow's hand covered her own. Willow could imagine for a second how it felt– Tara's hand soft and warm under hers, Tara's voice making some joke that she didn't completely understand in her sober form, but which the alcohol had made terrifically funny, her heart racing happily at meeting someone so friendly and interesting and new and pretty– "Do you need something else?" The bartender's voice interrupted her fleeting vision.

"Nope. That's it." She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. The picture in her head was already fading. She picked up the water glasses and looked back towards the couch. Buffy was still smiling– or smirking, rather– at Tara. Willow couldn't see Tara's face, but was glad that Buffy was making an effort. As she walked back towards her best friend and her favorite complication, a couple against the wall caught her eye, honed from hundreds of tag-along patrols. The guy had all the signs: out-of-date clothes, pale face, grabby hands, predatory eyes, a little too much attention to the neck. She picked up her pace towards the Slayer.

"Buffy, guy in the corner," she gestured with one hand, passing Tara her glass with the other. Tara immediately began drinking. Buffy, still smirking, glanced over and nodded, impressed.

"Yeah. Good call," she agreed. Tara looked up curiously.

"Vampire," Willow explained briefly. Buffy just nodded again.

"It's wicked obvious." There was a pregnant pause as Willow waited for the Slayer to go to work. Her brow crinkled slightly as Buffy continued to not react for several seconds. It didn't feel right. Buffy, as though reading Willow's mind, hopped nimbly to her feet. "So, I should go slay him." She quickly stalked off in that direction, and Willow turned her attention back to the tense witch seated at her elbow.

"It's okay. Buffy will get him. It's her job." Tara kept her head down, so her hair blocked her face from Willow's view. Her body appeared rigid. The redhead frowned. "Tara? What's wrong?" She reached out and pushed the curtain of blonde hair back out of the way, tucking it gingerly behind her ear. It revealed an ashen pallor and a deeply furrowed brow. "Tara, are you okay?" Willow hesitated, reaching out to touch her shoulder. An unsettling thought crossed her mind. "Did Buffy say something?"

At her touch, Tara stood abruptly, still grasping the cup in both hands.

"I… um… I d-don't feel well." She avoided eye contact with Willow, who still sat, confused, on the arm of the chair.

"Um… okay. Do you want to leave, then? Or just get some air?" she suggested, frowning as the blonde discarded the glass and crossed her arms protectively in front of herself. Tara shook her head briskly.

"W-we need to go. Now." A faint desperation was in her eyes. "You s-said we could leave… w-whenever I said, remember?"

Willow stood, still trying to puzzle out the cause the not-quite-suppressed frantic expression on her companion's face. She couldn't think of anything that Buffy could have said that would cause her to react like that, but she had no intention of making her stay at the Bronze if she felt bad and wanted to go home.

"Yeah, of course we can go." She approached the nervous girl and once again claimed her arm. The distressed blonde froze and held very still. "Can you walk back okay? Do you want me to call someone for a ride?" If Tara was really sick, she could always call Xander or Giles. She would just have to say that Tara was a friend from class or something. It would be a little weird, but better than Tara collapsing in the street and becoming vampire bait. Luckily, the point was rendered moot as Tara shook her head briskly.

"It's f-fine. Let's just leave. P-please." Her eyes were pleading. Willow was getting more worried by the second. Tara's voice was noticeably shakier than usual.

"Okay. I'll just tell Buffy we're going and we can go." The redhead began to turn to find Buffy, but this time Tara grabbed her arm, shaking her head quickly. "What?"

"Let's… l-let's just go." She was almost begging. Willow just felt more confused. She tried to force her face into a more reassuring expression.

"It'll just take a second." She attempted to make her voice more soothing, hoping it would calm Tara down. The witch's normally clear blue eyes shifted restlessly. She looked paranoid, but she seemed to reluctantly acquiesce. She released Willow's sleeve and took a step towards the door.

"Just… be careful." Her voice was strangely serious. Willow felt her nerves on edge. Something grated in her head, some connection she wasn't making, something that wasn't fitting into place like it was supposed to. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

"Okay…" she agreed, although she wasn't sure why. She spotted Buffy walking out of the bathroom alcove, telltale dust on her boots and an oddly stunned expression on her face. She approached quickly. "Hey, Buffy, Tara's not feeling well. I'm going to walk her home."

Buffy's face twisted into that strange smirk from before, before adopting an almost mockingly concerned face.

"Yeah. You give her whatever she needs."

Buffy's response struck her as a little odd, but she was already looking back to check for Tara. Tara was watching Buffy very intently, her arms still crossed defensively. Willow just nodded absently and quickly weaved through the crowd, returning to Tara's side.

"You're okay?" Tara verified as they left the building, striding quickly. Willow frowned again.

"I'm fine. I'm just worried about you. And maybe Buffy, too." Willow was tempted to test Tara's head for fever, but thought it might be a little invasive. The blonde's face hadn't lost its worried look. "Hey. It's alright. We'll be back on campus soon. Promise."

"I kn-know." She frowned at the sidewalk. "We just… There's something… We need to get b-back to my room."

Willow just nodded, agreeably keeping pace. Occupied as she was with how weird everyone was acting today, wondering if it was all just her imagination, she didn't notice her hand drifting away from her side until it was gently grasping Tara's, tugging it loose from its protective grip on her torso and holding it securely. Tara's head lifted slightly, and her eyes found Willow's in a mix of pleasure and uncertainty. _Well, in for a penny, in for a pound._ Willow gave her hand a squeeze. Tara's lips twitched in an almost-smile. She squeezed Willow's hand back and let her other arm drop as well. She swung their arms experimentally as they walked, her expression softening as they continued their journey back to the campus.


	17. Like Magic

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language (I guess?) and mentions of sex.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: You can assume that Tara and Buffy/Faith's conversation was at least similar to canon. It would have varied a little because Tara assumed that Buffy knew what was going on. So if Buffy said something mean, she would probably take it as more of a personal attack. I mean, imagine if this Buffy started talking about Oz and driving stick to this Tara, who thinks Buffy is their sole ally. Ouch.  
>AN2: Okay, so I rewatched the Flaming-O scene just to get the visuals right, and let me tell you: when you take out both sound and context, it is 3000% more pornographic. Just two girls sweating and panting and touching each other in the dark. Anyway, here is what you all… or at least some of you… probably… have been waiting for! Another of our girls' quintessential moments, rendered in words for your enjoyment. With minor changes because, as usual, I am marginally more entertained when the sequence of events or conversation goes a little differently, sometimes for completely arbitrary reasons. It was fun to write. That being said, on with the story!

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><p>Chapter 17:<br>Like Magic

Tara gave a soft sigh of relief as she pushed the door shut behind her. Willow reluctantly released her hold on her hand so that they could peel off their jackets. Between the unseasonably warm night and their brisk pace, her shirt was damp with sweat, and she was glad to be rid of the extra layer.

"Are you still feeling bad?" Willow asked, setting the divested clothing down on Tara's bed. Tara had her arms crossed over her middle again, and the redhead wondered if she literally had a stomachache or if her she was simply hugging herself for emotional comfort.

"It's n-not that," Tara admitted. She had calmed considerably on their walk, and, as always, seemed more comfortable in her own room. Still, the concerned look hadn't left her face.

"Tara, did something… happen? I mean, did Buffy say something? Because if she did, I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it. She's been pretty supportive about… us." Willow paused for breath. "I don't think she would say anything offensive, at least not on purpose. You know, with this whole mess with Faith, she really wasn't acting like herself. She was probably just–"

"_Willow_!" Tara cut her off with a finger over her lips. Willow immediately fell silent, looking down at the delicate hand and reminding herself to breathe. "That's just it. She w-wasn't… herself. I don't think." She removed her finger and began paging through one of the ancient tomes on her desk. Willow stepped closer, her brow furrowed, trying to ascertain what she was looking for.

"What do you mean?" she asked uncertainly. She didn't recognize most of the spells Tara was flipping past. Most of them seemed to be about traveling between planes and dimensions. Finally, a familiar one caught her eye. The spell she and Anya tried to cast so long ago, the one that reached between dimensions and had accidentally brought over her vampire twin. "You think Buffy's a vampire? Or from an alternate dimension?" she guessed, confused by the spell list. Tara paused and looked at her like she had suggested that Buffy was a reanimated Elvis clone.

"What?" If total confusion could be condensed to a single word, Willow thought it would sound something like Tara's bewildered query. She quickly decided to abandon her obviously misguided guessing.

"What do you mean, she wasn't herself?" She tried a different tactic. Tara just shook her head, bemused, and continued.

"Well… you know how everyone has a sort of energy?" she said seriously, still combing through the multidimensional tome. Willow nodded.

"Like an aura. Sure," she agreed.

"And that energy has a certain flow. A unity." Willow nodded again. "Well, Buffy's was… was fragmented. It was wrong. Like… like someone jammed the wrong key into a lock. You know?"

"Or a jigsaw puzzle piece that shouldn't fit, but then you make it?"

Tara flashed a brief smile in between pages.

"Exactly. S-something forced in where it doesn't belong."

Willow nodded along for a minute, until the weight of Tara's explanation sank in. _Tara can just look at someone and tell if their energy is out of whack? No way…_

"You can see that? People's auras?"

"Yeah," Tara admitted shyly.

"That's amazing. Can you teach me?" Willow blurted out eagerly. "You have no idea how useful that would be around here. We get jumped by crazy things all the time. Like praying mantis demons or hyena spirits that look like people." _And if I could read their energies, I could just say, "Hey! That's a hyena in Xander's body! Get him!" We could skip over the whole confused and hurt and eating live pigs parts. Or else–_

"Willow, focus," Tara interrupted her busy thoughts, bringing her back to the situation at hand. _Right. __Buffy. Buffy's energy is broken._

"Wait… so you think Buffy… is possessed? Or that something else is pretending to be Buffy?" She wanted to add 'like a hyena?', but decided that she didn't want Tara to give her the I'm-assuming-you're-not-crazy-but-have-no-proof look again, and therefore refrained.

"I don't know," Tara sighed. "It's definitely Buffy's actual body. But something was off about… whatever's inside of it. It didn't… 'look' like it was hers." Tara faltered on the next part, as though unsure if she really wanted to say it or not. "And she was… um… really mean, too."

Willow frowned, looking back at Tara's book. _This could be serious. If something has control of Buffy's body, that means it has Slayer strength. And Slayer stamina. And probably Slayer combat moves. And Buffy can't stop them because they're using her body. If there's a demon out there that wants to start something, they couldn't have picked a better body. _Willow put her resolve face on.

"Well, what can we do about it? Can you fix her?"

Tara winced slightly and increased her pace in paging through the spell book.

"Maybe. We have to find out what's wrong first," she explained in a nervous voice.

"How?"

Tara's incessant flipping finally stopped, and she lay her palm flat on the page, victorious.

"Here." She pushed the tome towards Willow, who quickly skimmed the spell.

"So… we call on Ayala to send my consciousness to the nether realm, and I look for Buffy there?" Willow verified. "And I'll see what's wrong." Tara nodded.

"It's n-not that simple, though. It's… it's a really intense spell. Almost like astral projection. It's r-really dangerous. I'd need to be your anchor. Keep you on this plane." Willow could see her head lowering as her confidence waned.

"Tara…"

"It's not like anything we've ever done before. If I m-mess up, you could get lost on the other side." She couldn't meet Willow's eyes. The younger witch gently touched her arm and waited for her to look up. Reluctantly, blue eyes looked over into green. Willow tried to convey every ounce of seriousness and care and trust she had for Tara into one reassuring sentence.

"I trust you."

Tara shook her head stubbornly, trying to argue.

"You d-don't understand–"

"I trust you." Willow repeated, overriding her protests. For several seconds, green eyes spoke silently with blue. Finally, Tara's conflicted expression gave way. Willow almost smiled. "Come on. We need to set everything up. Buffy needs us."

"Okay." Tara's voice was barely a whisper.

The spell was a more complex one than anything than had done before. So far, they had only done basic practice spells together: simple levitation, synchronicity tests, tiny fairy lights. Nothing that would call on a god or require an elaborate ritual. This would be a different experience entirely. Willow just hoped that this spell would bring back the surge of energy she remembered from the laundry room. She wanted to feel it again.

Willow traced a circle on the floor, intermittently scribing symbols where they belonged. Occasionally, Tara would follow behind her and fix or adjust something. Candles were arranged and lit. Sacred oil was heated and blessed. They carefully memorized the lines of the spell, murmuring them soundlessly to themselves as they set up the ceremony in silence. Still, they shared frequent, fleeting glances. Their hands occasionally brushed against each other as they passed. Once, Willow even felt Tara's hand trace along her back as the blonde passed behind her. It made her hair stand on end in a very pleasant way. Finally, Willow sat in the circle and Tara stood at the desk, carefully reviewing the spell requirements and double-checking their progress.

"Are we ready?" Willow asked, breaking the unusual silence that had overcome them. Tara chewed her lip for a moment, surveying the circle one last time before nodding.

"Yeah. There's… there's something I should tell you first, though. I should have m-mentioned it before, really." Tara's hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt.

"What?" Willow looked up at her expectantly.

"This spell. It's… intense," Tara explained unhelpfully, looking more flustered by the second.

"You mentioned that," Willow replied gently.

"But… I mean… it's _emotionally_ intense. It can f-feel very… intimate." The room was dark, but the candlelight was enough to reveal a flush in Tara's face.

"Oh." Willow took a deep, stabilizing breath. "How intimate?"

"I don't know." Tara sighed. "I just… I know you're s-still not comfortable with… what happened… between us. I thought I should w-warn you."

"Tara…" Willow felt her expression soften. "I'm fine. Really. I mean, I still want to remember, but if I don't… we'll be okay." _I can't explain it exactly, but I can see now how I would have taken to you that night. I already want to kiss you again._ "I actually thought you were the uncomfortable one. In that sense, at least."

Tara looked at the floor for a second, shyness once again getting in her way.

"I still like you, Willow. I just don't want you to get scared and run off again," she admitted quietly. Her voice was sad, but steady. "You don't know what that felt like."

Willow sucked in another breath, trying to find the right words to convince her that they would be okay.

"I trust you," she finally decided. She gave Tara a resolute look. "Now trust me."

Tara peered into her eyes for several seconds, as though reading them. Willow wondered if she could see her aura, and what it looked like.

"Okay," Tara murmured finally. She stepped into the circle. "Let's start, then."

_Let's,_ Willow agree in her head. _Let's start. _Tara produced the bowl of oil and approached the redhead, who watched her silently, waiting. She could see the resolve in Tara's eyes, deep and steady. _Magic does wonders for that girl's confidence,_ Willow's head quipped briefly, before all thoughts were cut off by the touch of Tara's hand, anointing her forehead with oil. Then her lips. She could feel her heart pounding in anticipation. The hand then touched down, ever so gently, on her breastbone. All thoughts were lost as the anointed points grew hot and began to tingle. The sensation reminded her of blood returning to a sleeping limb. She could feel her breathing grow heavy as the feeling spread through her body. The only thing she was conscious of was Tara's low voice, chanting. She felt her anchor settle beside her, their legs and hands touching unconsciously. On Tara's cue, her own voice joined the spell. _The inward eye. The sightless sea. Ayala flows through the river in me._ The tingling feeling continued to spread all the way to her fingertips and toes. She was barely conscious of controlling her own body anymore, but knew that her hand was mirroring Tara's, tracing the sacred circle that would protect them until the spell had run its course.

She could feel the magic beginning to take form. Tara had been right– the spell was far more intense than anything they had performed before. They ceased chanting and stilled their hands. Willow knew that if she opened her eyes, she would be able to see the circle forming, glowing, surrounding them, protecting them. As though weightless, her hand began to rise until it connected with Tara's. As their hands lay flat against each other, sensation and control returned to her body. Her eyes crept open. She could see the circle, like a wreath of flame, rising from the floor. She saw Tara next to her, her face flushed, her breathing heavy. A sheen of sweat lay over her skin, catching the light from the sacred circle. She looked like she was glowing.

As the spell began in earnest, she felt an invisible hand grasp something inside her and pull. Inch by inch, she could feel part of her consciousness, her inward eye, being drawn out. Before the empty feeling could set in, though, something else rushed to fill it, channeled through their hands. Tara. It reminded her of the spell in the laundry room, but something about this was more powerful, more vital. Their energies weren't just merging for a common goal; Tara's spirit was entering her body, keeping her grounded, sinking into her bones. She didn't have to be afraid. Tara would be her kite string as she soared through the nether realm. And Tara would guide her home again, safe and sound. Willow could see why she had described the spell as "intimate."

The sensation burned through her, leaving every nerve on edge. With every second, the feeling grew more powerful, became more all-encompassing. She could _feel_ Tara– really feel her. Tara's spirit was filling the empty space, keeping her whole while her own consciousness was being tugged away. Her vision was starting to fade, and she could feel a tremble start in the tips of her fingers and toes and creep upwards. Within seconds, it was like wildfire, burning her up, leaving her nerveless and overwhelmed by the feeling of Tara filling her up completely. Blackness closed out her vision, and she fell backwards onto the strategically placed pillows, arching her back as her consciousness finally ejected from her body, sucked between planes.

Willow's sight abruptly returned as she found herself floating in what she assumed was the nether realm. She could see Tara's room still, but everything was dark except for their circle. Around Tara's form was an ethereal glow, a swirl of purples and blues. Her eyes were closed as she chanted ceaselessly. Willow couldn't remember if that was part of the ritual or not. She recognized a few of the Latin words. _A prayer. She's praying. For my safety._ She could see her own body, prone on the ground, and couldn't blame Tara for her concern. She lay very still, and her breathing was shallow. Luckily, though, in the nether realm, Tara's aura hovered over her body as well, as though guarding it.

_So… this is it huh? The sightless sea? Only I have sight now. I wonder if that's what Tara's energy really looks like. It's pretty. And bright. It suits her. But I should find Buffy. Where is Buffy? Riley's, probably. Lowell House. I should go there. _Her train of thought paused for a second. _How do I move? My body's down there. I don't have legs. Maybe I can just will myself to…_ She tried to imagine herself walking, and was pleased to find that, corporeal form or not, she moved forward. _Okay. Let's do this. _She carefully guided herself through the halls. It was late, but not that late, so people still roamed from room to room. She could see the energy in all of them, like little sparks of color. They weren't as big or bright as Tara's though. Or as pretty.

She found that she could actually travel quite fast in this form, and made impressive time getting to Lowell House, all things considered. At one point, she saw a pale man leaning against a tree, but his aura was empty and dark, like a shadow was falling over him. _Vampire,_ she guessed. _No soul, no pretty aura. _She wasn't entirely sure which room was Riley's, but it wasn't a big house. There wouldn't be much searching. She started with the first door at the top of the stairs, passing easily through the door, which existed only in the physical realm. It was no barrier in the nether realm.

_Well… that was easy. _She saw Riley lying in his bed. Basically naked. If she had still had a face, she would have cringed. Riley's aura was small, but relatively bright. It wasn't any fancy color, though. Mostly beige. Willow would have laughed if she still had a body. _He's nice, but… there's just not that much to him. _Lying next to him, though, was a very disturbed-looking Buffy. That was a more confusing story. _Well, no hyenas so far. That's a good sign, at least. _Willow could see now what Tara had meant by an aura that didn't fit. While Tara's cool blue energy had flowed in smooth, intricate patterns, Buffy's angry red counterpart thrashed like something wild caught in a cage. There was something jagged and unpleasant about it. She moved closer and looked harder. There was something else there… like something superimposed over Buffy's form. It was something else… _No, someone else…_ Willow jumped back as she realized what it was. _Faith. It's Faith. Faith has Buffy's body. _And there was something on Faith's hand– something green and glowing. _Oh God. I have to tell Tara. We have to tell Giles. And Riley! He doesn't even know it's not her!_

She fled back to Tara so fast that everything was a blur. She hit her body at what felt like a thousand miles an hour, and, for a second, dazzling gold light blocked out her vision. Her spirit reconnected with her body in a flood of sensation, and she came back into consciousness with a gasp. She could tell that her body was soaked with sweat, and every inch of her felt absolutely spent. She was weak and trembling and so, so tired. There was also a hollow feeling of emptiness now that Tara's energy had vacated her body. Luckily, though, Tara's face abruptly entered her field of vision.

"Willow? Are you okay?" Tara looked as bad as she felt– sweaty, shaky, flushed, exhausted.

"Yeah… Oh God… Buffy. Faith's in her body. That's why she was acting so weird. And mean. It was Faith." She forced herself to sit up, and their faces were suddenly only inches away. Tara leaned their foreheads together, and Willow instantly felt relieved. Some of the tremors left her hands. Still, she had never felt so tired in her life.

"How? Did you s-see anything?"

"Yeah. Something green. On her hand."

"Green. Probably Draconian. A… um… a katra could have done s-something like that. But then…" Tara trailed off, a dark look crossing her face.

"But then what?"

"Then Buffy would be in Faith's body, too." Willow's stomach sank down to her feet. "And we d-don't know where that is, right?"

Willow sighed, trying to convince her body to stay upright long enough to save the day.

"Unless the Watcher's Council has found her already. If they think she's Faith, who knows what they'll do to her." Willow struggled to keep her eyes open. She knew that her head would have fallen already if it weren't braced against Tara's. "How can we put them back?"

"We… we would have to summon another katra. But we would need something of hers. Buffy's, I mean." Tara's voice was breathy, like she was already half-asleep.

Willow glanced down at her hand.

"I have… a ring."

"That would work."

"I think… I'm too tired now…"

"Yeah… me, too…"

"I think… I need to lie down. Now. Here."

She didn't remember anything else until morning.


	18. Credit

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language (Why do I keep saying that? They never use adult language…) and mentions of sex.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: Okay, so I'm in grad school now and also have a job, so a lot of my time is now pretty spoken for, which is why the updates stopped. BUT! I am committed to recommitting myself. So expect more updates in the coming weeks. As an apology for the long hiatus, I will actually start doing review responses on my profile page (I don't want to clutter up my uploads more than I already do with these author's notes). So if you want to ask questions or see the answers to other people's questions, feel free, and I'll try to put the answers up there.  
>AN2: 100 reviews! WHOOOO! Keep in mind, everyone, that reviews are motivation. More reviews = More motivation. Always. Thanks to everyone who reviews.

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><p>Chapter 18:<br>Credit

Willow flinched away from the creeping morning light as it fell over her face, driving her out of her dreamland. She buried her face deeper into the warm stuff it was already pressed against. Warm was a good word. She was very warm. Unfortunately, her hiding attempt didn't cover her eyes like she had hoped, and they instead peeped open as her head reluctantly woke up.

The first thing her eyes focused on was a mass of golden hair. _Tara_, she recognized instantly. Dim sunlight fell through a crack in the curtains and washed them both in gold. Willow moved experimentally, taking stock of herself. 'Comfortable' probably would have been an overstatement. The floor was hard except for the scattered pillows, and her arm was mostly numb below the shoulder she had settled on. Still, it wasn't entirely _un-_comfortable. Tara was nestled against her, her head resting somewhere around Willow's collarbone. She seemed to still be soundly asleep.

Even after assessing their positions and recalling that it was the result of late-night spellcasting, it took Willow several moments to remember exactly what they had been doing. _Oh God. Buffy. And Faith. I can't believe we just fell asleep. It was just like… I couldn't help it. I was so sleepy when I got back. She must have been, too._ She tried to remember what their next step had been. _Conjuring something. And we needed… What was it?_ She reluctantly nudged Tara into wakefulness. She had no desire to disturb her, but considering that the situation was literally life or death, she supposed it was unavoidable. At her provocation, the blonde sucked in a deep breath and stretched briefly as she blinked her eyes open.

"Willow?" she murmured sleepily, taking in her surroundings with some confusion.

"Yeah, I'm here. Wake up. We have to summon… something… remember? To fix Buffy and Faith?" Willow couldn't help but smile slightly as Tara's expression cleared and she sat up, clothes rumpled and hair mussed. Willow compulsively wanted to pull her back down and reinitiate the close contact. Without Tara, her side felt cold, and her insides felt… off. Wrong. Bad. Before Willow could work out the problem, Tara set her jaw, eased herself to her feet, and took the few steps back to the desk. She seemed to favor one leg, and she gave a huge yawn as she braced against the desk.

"Right. The katra. You said… you had something of hers?" She picked blearily through the pile of books again, flipping through a few to find answers. Willow, pouting, looked down at her hand and pulled off the borrowed object.

"Oh. Yeah. I have this ring. Will that work?" She pulled herself to her feet, gingerly stretching her stiff joints. She held it out to Tara, who didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah. That's perfect." She finally glanced up and plucked the costume jewel from Willow's outstretched hand. Willow instinctively moved closer, leaning gently against her. The strange, unpleasant feeling from before dissolved away. Tara paused momentarily in her flipping, but otherwise didn't react. "Um… you don't think she'd m-mind… if we, you know, used it in the spell?"

"If it gets her out of Faith's body, I think she'll be thrilled about it," Willow guessed. Tara finally lay her palm flat on one of the pages, successful in her search.

"Okay. Here it is. Not so hard." She turned around until she and Willow were facing each other, inches apart. "W-we should get to it then. I guess. Right?"

"Right. Set up the spell." Willow tried to convince her legs to move, but her body was unwilling to put the extra distance between them. "We should do that."

"Yes," Tara agreed, also not budging.

"Why is it really hard to move?" The redhead asked, crinkling her forehead. Wanting to be close to Tara was nothing new, but this was an exponentially more powerful feeling. She felt like she literally wouldn't be able to function if they weren't at least within reach of each other. Tara gave a weak smile.

"S-sometimes, with rituals like last night, there can be some… um… side effects." She had folded her hands together, and was now flexing her fingers compulsively.

"Like what? Dry mouth? Nausea? Hives? Heart failure?" She imagined a little footnote in the spellbook, like a note on a prescription bottle or the rushed fine print at the end of a medical commercial. Tara's smile widened a little.

"More like… a temporary bonding? We were so mixed up together during the spell… it takes awhile for our energies to separate completely. It might make us… want to stay together. For awhile, at least."

Willow nodded immediately.

"I can feel it." That was an understatement. The idea of being out of sight from Tara was making her stomach turn.

"Me too." Tara agreed, although she didn't try to move closer. Willow frowned.

"You seem okay," she accused stiffly. She felt slightly miffed by Tara's apparent indifference. There was a slight strain in the blonde's expression, but she seemed perfectly in control of herself.

"I'm used to it," Tara explained quietly.

"Resisting spell side effects?" Willow tapped a toe against the ground, rolling the idea around in her mind. _Maybe it affects people differently._

"Resisting you," Tara corrected, peering at her with weary eyes. Willow swallowed. She didn't have anything to say to that. After a moment of heavy silence, Tara gestured away. "Come on. We have to do the ritual. For the katra." She slid out from between the desk and Willow, squeezing her arm gently as she passed.

"Okay. Is it…?" Willow wanted to ask if it would be 'intimate,' but wasn't sure if the question would sound sleazy. Tara seemed to understand.

"It's n-nothing like what we did… before." She wore a slightly self-conscious smile, but the blush that Willow had expected never arose. "It'll be easier."

"Oh. Okay. How do we start?"

"I get a vessel for the katra." She pulled a small wooden box off of a shelf and gave Willow a hard-to-read look. "And we're going to need the Doll's Eye."

Willow nodded. She had kept it with her since Tara had given it to her that afternoon. She fished it out of an inside pocket of her coat. When her hand closed over it, the unpleasant feeling of Tara's distance eased considerably. She gave it a curious look, but didn't have time to ask about it. They had a Slayer to rescue. Maybe even two.

"Do you have holy water?" Tara asked as Willow returned with the crystal. She had lit a thin red candle and was crushing something between a mortar and pestle.

"Yep. Does the vessel need to be blessed?" she guessed. Tara mumbled a confirmation.

"Could you…?" She started. Willow nodded agreeably. It was a simple enough task. They busied themselves with the preparations. The herbs were placed in the blessed vessel with the ring and lit with the candle, whose wax sealed the vessel shut. Together, the witches translated the lines of the spell and recited them while holding the crystal. As Willow felt the power recede and the spell wrap up, she quickly went to open the window. The room was slightly hazy with smoke.

"They're going to think you're doing something illicit in here, you know," Willow commented. Casting the second spell seemed to have eased the effects of the first somewhat. Being on the other side of the room from Tara was only slightly unsettling.

"That's why I took the b-batteries out of the smoke alarm." Tara gave an unusually mischievous smirk. "Plus, the RA lives on the first floor. He never comes up here."

"Troublemaker," Willow teased, nudging her shoulder playfully as she walked back to the desk. "So is it ready?"

"Let's find out." Tara peeled off the hardened wax and opened the box. The inside was glowing bright green, emanating from Buffy's luckily still-intact ring. "That's it. That's the katra."

"That'll switch them back?" Willow asked, inspecting it with interest.

"Yeah. If you give it to Buffy and Buffy finds Faith and they both touch the katra together, it should… well… undo the switcheroo."

The redhead gave a quick sigh of relief.

"Good. I should get this to Giles. If Buffy finds her way here, that's where she'll go. The others, too." She closed the vessel and looked up at Tara, who was grimacing a little.

"Yeah." She glanced at the clock and waved a hand towards the door. "You'd better hurry. I m-mean, who knows what's happened since last night."

Willow's heart sunk a little, and guilt settled in her stomach like a stack of bricks. _I. 'I' should get this to Giles. 'You' better hurry. Not 'we.'_

"What about you?" she asked, even as she realized she had already dismissed her with her pronoun choice.

"Well, you said you weren't ready for them to know about me yet. So… I guess I'll stay here." The blond gave a little, helpless shrug.

"Yeah, but…" Willow felt like stomping her foot in frustration. "I couldn't have done this without you. I couldn't have done tons of spells without you. I shouldn't always get all the credit."

Tara offered her a wry smile.

"It's okay, Will. I'm not in it for the credit."

"It's still not fair." The redhead paced restlessly, trying to convince herself that Giles and Xander and Anya meeting Tara wouldn't be scary. _Damn it. _"I need a lab coat," she grumbled to herself.

"Huh? For what?" Tara tilted her head at the unexpected change of topic.

"Nothing. Just… some advice I got. About not letting fear keep me from doing something I want."

At this, Tara smiled softly.

"Sounds like good advice… but we don't really have time to work through it now, do we? You have to save Buffy, remember?" She placed the vessel in Willow's left hand. "If you're still afraid, then you should probably just go without me." She held out the crystal for Willow to take back. Green eyes flitted between the purple crystal and the blue eyes watching her reactions.

With a sigh of resignation and a strong urge to kick herself, she took the crystal from Tara, kissed her cheek, and bolted out the door, once again leaving Tara standing alone.

…

Giles turned the wooden box over and over in his hands.

"This is incredible, Willow. How did you find out about all this?" He passed it on to Buffy-in-Faith's-body, who opened it to look inside.

"I ran into Faith yesterday. In your body." She nodded to Buffy. "She was in the Bronze, blowing off steam or something. At first, I just thought you were acting weird, but…" Her jaw clenched on the lie before it could get out. She couldn't take credit for everything. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. She looked between the two members of her strange surrogate family and took in a deep breath. "I was with a friend who can read auras. She knew right away that Buffy wasn't Buffy. We did a ritual to see what was wrong and summoned the katra to undo the damage."

"That's very advanced magic work. I'm…" He trailed off as something on the muted television caught his eye. Abandoning his train of thought, he picked up the remote and turned up the volume, and the reporter informed them of a group of vampires holding a local church hostage. They all looked at each other for a heartbeat, then ran for the door.

As the van rumbled down the street, Willow sat in the back, watching out the small windows for familiar landmarks. An uncomfortable feeling prickled under her skin, like an itch. She knew that it would go away if Tara just touched her hand there. She reached into her pocket for the crystal.

A hand touched her arm and she heard her name. She turned her head and saw Faith's eyes looking right at her. She jumped back and prepared a scream until she remembered the situation. Buffy-in-Faith's-body held up her hands. Faith's hands.

"Woah. It's okay. It's just me."

"I know," Willow defended, her voice too high and her breathy to be convincing. She put a hand on her chest as the adrenaline receded.

"It was her, wasn't it? She knew it wasn't me, and she knew what to do? How to find out what happened and summon the dragon thing?" Even though the face was Faith's, Willow recognized the soft eyes and sympathetic tone of her best friend. It was so different from the Faith-in-Buffy's-body at the Bronze. She couldn't believe she had actually thought that was Buffy. To the question, she nodded morosely.

"She's so powerful. And she knows so much more than me. I mean, even if I had realized you weren't you, I wouldn't have had any idea about what to do about it. But she… she understood everything. Right away. She took care of it all. I was just along for the ride."

"Well tell her thanks. I owe her. I don't know what we would have done without her." Buffy smirked. "And tell her sorry she had to meet fake-me before real me."

Willow relaxed a little and offered a smile back, pride warming her from the inside. _Tara saved the day. Yay._

"You should tell her yourself. I know she'd like to meet you."

Buffy nodded agreeably.

"Yeah. We should all hang out sometime. The three of us." She paused for a beat, as if something had just occurred to her. "Why didn't she come with you, then? Here, I mean."

Willow sighed, hanging her head and pushing her hair away from her face.

"Because I'm still a chicken and I still don't know what to tell Giles or Xander about her."

"The truth wouldn't work?" Buffy arched an eyebrow.

"The truth is really confusing. I couldn't explain it if I wanted to. But I don't want to keep lying about her either." She pinched the bridge of her nose. The beginnings of a headache threatened behind her eyes. She wasn't sure if it was from natural causes or just being apart from Tara.

"So what are you waiting for?" Buffy asked, blinking innocently. Willow let out her breath in a huff.

"I don't know. Courage, maybe? Or just a way to tell them about her without freaking them out." Even in her head, the reasons sounded lame. Buffy gave her a long look.

"Well, it's not like things are getting _less_ serious between you, right?" Willow didn't answer, but Buffy continued anyway. "So you're eventually going to have to tell them you're dating a girl now. I don't know that there's a way of doing that without freaking them out just a little." Willow winced slightly, and Buffy hurried on. "And I'm sure they'll be cool about it after that."

Willow slowly shook her head in resignation.

"I know… I just don't want everything to change."

Buffy, looking down at Faith's hands with detached interest, offered a shrug.

"Who knows, maybe change will be good."

All Willow knew was that the sooner she got back home to Tara, the better.


	19. Bonding

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For… I don't even know anymore.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: You know why I'm just the worst? This thing was written up about three weeks ago, and I've just been putting off the final read-through and last-minute edits until yesterday. Granted, my writing stylings have been taken up by NaNo for the month, but still. Sorry about dropping the ball. Like I said, though, I'm in this fic for the long haul. I'm finishing what I started. This fic will not be abandoned. And the next chapter is one I've wanted to do forever, so we're on our way. I just have to decide on an opening scene and we're golden.  
>AN2: This chapter wasn't originally going to exist, but I think jumping all the way to Superstar would give everyone feelings-whiplash, so here we are. Some fluff.

* * *

><p>Chapter 19:<br>Bonding

With Buffy back in her own body and the Faith issue at least set aside, if not resolved, the Scooby-age of the day was finally over, which Willow was grateful for as she leapt up Kresge's stairs two at a time. The fight at the church had taken too long. In the past half-hour, the prickling under her skin had changed from an increasingly uncomfortable tickling to a painful pins-and-needles sensation, and everything inside her was twisting in knots, crying to be near Tara again.

She finally alighted on the second floor landing, pausing to catch her breath under the flickering fluorescent light. Giles had dropped Buffy and her off near Lowell House, and she had been sprinting across campus for several minutes. Deciding that the few seconds of rest were not worth the delay, she jogged the rest of the way down the hall, finally stumbling to a complete stop in front of Tara's door, still panting from the exertion.

Before she could even raise her hand to knock, Tara threw the door open, and Willow instinctively fell forward. Something soft broke her fall almost immediately, and she felt Tara's arms close around her. She sighed gratefully, burying her face in the crook of the blonde's neck. As the reassuring warmth sank into her bones, the painful prickling feeling began to dissolve, replaced by a euphoric sensation, like her blood was effervescing.

Neither of them moved until the last of the discomfort had receded. Willow just stood very still, breathing in the faintly floral smell of Tara's shampoo and listening to her heartbeat slow from an agitated _presto_ to a more relaxed _adagio_. After several hundred heartbeats, the redhead reluctantly pulled back. She examined Tara's expression for any lingering signs of pain, tracing her face with her fingertips. Any lingering sense of awkwardness had, for the moment at least, been pulverized by the relentless pull of the bond.

"Are you alright?" she asked, dropping her hands to grip the blonde's arms. Tara was wearing a heavy cream-colored sweater that blocked the highly desired skin-on-skin contact, but it was enough to ease the separation anxiety that still lingered in the back of her mind. Tara nodded in response.

"Better now." She leaned her head forward again to reestablish a connection. Their foreheads touched, and she wearily closed her eyes. "You?"

"Yeah," Willow breathed, leaning into the contact as her skin tingled pleasantly. "I'm good."

They stood in silence for several breaths, letting the spell connection loosen its grip on them.

"I didn't realize it would be that strong," Tara murmured.

"Me neither." Willow shuddered at the memory. "I never would have left you here if I had known it would feel like that." Guilt gnawed at her stomach. _I could have just brought her. I could have just introduced her to Buffy and Giles and we wouldn't have had to go through all that. Stupid, stupid, stupid._ She felt Tara's fingers trace their way down her arms and gently grip her hands.

"I would have gone looking for you, but I didn't know where you were." Clear blue eyes opened and blinked into her own. The guilt doubled.

"There was a vampire attack at a church. We had to go help," Willow explained. She squeezed Tara's hands, appreciating their delicate but solid feel in her own. They grounded her.

"Is everyone okay? Buffy?" Tara asked. Willow could feel her companion's eyebrows scrunching in concern. She didn't resist as the redhead pulled her back into a secure hug.

"Yeah. Everyone's safe. And back in the right body. Faith was already at the church, slaying the vampires."

"Why? Was that part of her plan?" Tara's voice intoned some confusion.

"I don't think so. I guess I don't really know what happened in there. Buffy seemed kinda spooked after." For about a nanosecond, she wondered if she should go looking for her best friend, but the threat of separation had her dismissing the idea instantly. Besides, she was probably having an incredibly uncomfortable conversation with Riley by now. "I'll ask her later." She sighed to herself as she reluctantly pulled away again. "She wanted to thank you, by the way. We couldn't have done it without you. Really."

"I'm just glad I could help. And that no one got hurt." She blushed at the flattery and took a step back, testing the waters. Willow kept a loose grip on her hands, but the pain didn't return. "What happened to Faith?"

"She ran away, I guess." She grimaced at the thought. _I wonder where she's going…_ "Are you sure you're okay? I mean, I thought my skin was trying to crawl away. It was the same for you, right?"

"Yeah. It… felt pretty bad. I'm okay, though." She offered a weak smile. "Maybe we should stick together for the rest of today, though. Just in case."

Willow felt her shoulders slump in relief.

"That sounds good." Her statement was punctuated by an annoyed growl from her stomach. She blushed. "Sorry. I didn't want to stop and eat."

"Me neither. I was w-worried that if I left, I wouldn't be here when you got back." She gave a nervous half-smile that betrayed some underlying hurt.

"Well, we could go to the cafeteria," Willow suggested. Tara wrinkled her nose subtly.

"I guess."

"You aren't hungry?"

"Oh, sure. But… if we go now, we'll have to keep our distance a little. Too many eyes."

Willow's heart sank at the idea, but she brightened as another thought crossed her mind.

"You could come back to my room. We always have food lying around. I think we have leftover Chinese. And canned soup. And crackers. And I have a candy stash." She caught herself, frowning. "Don't tell Buffy about that, though." She advised sternly. Tara giggled, then adopted a faux-serious face.

"You have my word. Your secret stash is safe with me." She dropped the facade, the crooked smile breaking out. "But what if Buffy's there?"

Willow rolled her eyes, grinning at Tara's improved mood and tugging her towards the door. Tara lifted a bag from her door handle and slung it over her shoulder, following her lead.

"Then you'll finally get to meet her. This is getting ridiculous, you know. She has to put up with me talking about you nonstop and she _still_ doesn't even know what you look like." Willow maintained what she hoped was a casual grip on Tara's hand and they began their trek to Stevenson. Tara raised an eyebrow at the comment, glancing down at herself. She shook her head and gave a halfhearted shrug.

"She's not missing much."

Willow shoved her shoulder with her own, shooting her a lightly scolding look.

"You know, I'd fight someone to the death for talking like that about you. You think you're an exception?"

Tara ducked her head, her ears tingeing pink. She glanced up after a second, smirking self-consciously.

"You'd fight someone to the death?" Her tone was teasing, but she still looked embarrassed.

"To defend your honor? Always." Willow led her down the stairwell. She knew they were teasing, but she hoped that Tara could read the serious undertones. Anyone who tried to hurt Tara in any way, physically or emotionally, would suffer the considerable fury of a Willow scorned.

"I'm not much of a fighter," Tara admitted.

"That's okay. We have enough fighting in Sunnydale. We could use more of the other stuff." She squeezed Tara's hand tighter and quickened their pace.

When they reached the dorm room, Willow rapped on the door sharply with her knuckles. There was no answer. She unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing an empty, immaculately neat room.

"Guess Buffy's out with Riley." She shrugged, the fleeting disappointment giving way to pleasure at the thought of privacy. "That's okay. Room's all ours, then."

"Nice room," Tara commented, cautiously following her in. Everything was matched and bright, and a few campus flyers were taped to the wall. Willow shrugged again, looking around.

"We're barely in it these days." She smiled, somewhat abashed. To her, the room just looked bare and empty. "Besides, it's practically a hospital room or a prison cell compared to your room. We didn't decorate much."

"It's fine. It's a lot brighter than my room. It feels a lot different."

"Yeah. I still like yours better."

Tara offered a warm smile, relinking their hands.

"I'm glad."

"So, reheated takeout or canned chicken soup?"

"Either. Whatever you want."

"Takeout it is."

Ten minutes later, after Willow had thoroughly embarrassed herself attempting to use chopsticks and they had both finished off a little folding box of noodles and rice, they sat on the bed, Tara leaning back against the headboard while Willow fiddled with her laptop. It was being disobedient.

The room was stuffy from disuse, and Willow noticed Tara fidgeting with her no doubt overly warm sweater, but opening the window would have let in too much of the outside chill and noise. After pulling restlessly at her sleeves for a few minutes, the blonde finally released a huff of air and pushed the whole thing off, depositing it on the floor with a muffled _whump_ and leaving only a tank top underneath. At the sound of her barely audible sigh of relief, Willow glanced back at her and sucked in a quick breath of surprise. It wasn't often that Tara abandoned her conservative coverings, and it was easy to forget the very, _very_ nice figure they concealed. After allowing herself a few seconds to stare admiringly, she forced her eyes back to her computer, where she continued her attempts to coax it into playing a movie. Finally, she gave a cry of success as the stubborn machine gave into her demands.

"There. It always listens in the end." She shot Tara an impish smile.

"You're like the computer whisperer," Tara teased. Willow grinned proudly. It had been awhile since anyone was really impressed by her computer skills– Xander, Buffy, and even Giles were long since used to her technological miracles. Tara's fresh pride gave her a happy feeling. "So what are we watching?"

"I don't actually remember what the title translates to."

Tara's brow furrowed semi-playfully.

"Okay, now I'm worried."

"Don't be. It's a good movie. Promise." Willow reached back and squeezed her knee. The blue eyes softened.

"Alright. I trust you." Tara covered Willow's hand with her own as the title screen danced across the computer display. Overly enthusiastic sitar music blasted from the small speakers. Tara tugged on Willow's hand, pulling her back. Willow hesitated for a second, checking the blonde's face for permission, but more than happily scooted back to lean against her. The pleasant effervescent feeling stirred in her again at the contact, and she settled back comfortably, enjoying it. "You know I don't speak Hindi, right?"

"Neither do I. Bollywood's like watching silent movies, though. Everyone overacts so much, you don't really need to hear the dialogue to know what's going on." She giggled. "And even if you get it wrong, a lot of time the story in your head is better than the real one anyway."

"Bollywood?" Tara asked faintly.

"It's a genre of over-the-top Indian films. My parents used to buy them for me when I was a kid. I think they thought it would widen my cultural experience."

"Your parents sound… odd," Tara admitted, still watching the screen with some confusion.

"I think most parents are." _Especially mine. Especially these days._ She frowned to herself and snuggled slightly against Tara. "I don't want to talk about them today."

"Okay," Tara murmured immediately. Willow felt a set of fingers slowly comb through her hair, brushing it away from her face. The sensation almost had her eyes rolling up in her head. "Tell me about your friends, then."

Willow fought to regain control of her breathing enough to speak. Even her toes were tingling from the sensation on her scalp. Every touch felt magnified by the residual bonding, making for an almost too-pleasant sensation.

"Sure. Um… well, there's Xander. I've known him since we were in kindergarten. We've been friends kind of on and off our whole lives. We've been closer since high school, though." A sad, somewhat guilty pang reminded her how long it had been since she had really talked with her best guy friend. "I don't see him that much now that we're in college and he's out job-hunting. It's weird. We used to see each other for hours and hours every day. Giles, too. I guess because we were all crammed in the same building for so long. Now we almost never see each other, unless something bad's going on."

"You miss them."

"Yeah." Willow's hands found Tara's unoccupied one and began absently playing with the fingers, carefully tracing them and curling and uncurling them, trying to memorize every line. "They're like my family. My goofy big brother and my well-meaning-but-stuffy-and-out-of-touch dad. We're just in different worlds these days. Things have changed so much."

"Change isn't always a bad thing," Tara commented, watching Willow's thorough investigation of her hand. The redhead smiled wryly.

"That's what Buffy said." She squeezed Tara's hand and felt her hair stir again as Tara resumed her ministrations. "I guess if we were all still in high school, I never would have met you." Even the imaginary sense of loss was enough to make her heart ache. Tara wrinkled her nose slightly.

"I would hate to go back to high school." Her voice was sour with distaste. Willow looked up curiously. Tara was always pretty silent when it came to her life before Sunnydale. This was the first time she had offered up any information.

"How come?"

She saw the hollow of Tara's throat constrict, as though she realized she had said too much. The blonde gave a flustered shrug.

"It just… w-wasn't a lot of fun. For me." Her head turned away, like she was shielding herself from Willow's gaze. Willow almost flinched as the nervous stutter made an appearance. She sandwiched Tara's hand reassuringly between both of her own. The curious part of her wanted to press the issue, but the rational part of her didn't want to make Tara any more uncomfortable. She might ask her to move. Or put her sweater back on. Neither of those were acceptable options.

"Parts of it weren't for me either. I got picked on a lot. And there was some pretty scary monster-related stuff that happened to us, too. Things got better, though, once Buffy showed up. Death counts went down. People made fun of me a little less. We met Giles. It was a lot better."

"Well, to its credit, I guess my high school didn't have much of a death count."

"It's one of Sunnydale's unique charms."

"It must have been hard growing up here with the…" she tried to remember the word. "Hellmouth."

"We didn't know any better, I guess. We just got used to it. The death. You always knew that it was a possibility, that one day your friend might disappear or go crazy and attack you." She shook her head, trying to dispel the memory of countless acquaintances and a handful of friends who had been lost to the Hellmouth over the years. _Poor Jesse… _

"Why does everyone stay here?"

Willow shrugged.

"It's home."

Tara nodded understandably, a sorrowful look shading her eyes. It looked like she had something to add, but a sudden tightness in her jaw held the words at bay.

"Have Buffy and Giles lived here their whole lives, too?" she asked finally. Willow felt a fleeting disappointment that she still couldn't open up about her pre-Sunnydale existence, but let her lead the conversation where she wanted.

"Nope. Buffy grew up in LA. And Giles is British. Really British. I think even his sweaters have an accent. They both showed up at the beginning of sophomore year. Xander and I kinda caught Buff in the Slaying thing."

"And you decided to help?" She could hear the wordless 'why' in Tara's voice, but couldn't quite answer it. It had just seemed like the thing to do at the time. Buffy had been nice to her and Jesse had fallen victim to Sunnydale Fever and she and Xander had just wanted to do something about it. Anything.

"As much as we could. I couldn't do magic yet, so I mostly helped with computer stuff. We haven't needed that nearly as much lately. More supernatural monsters than enterprising techie criminals these days. I'm not sure why."

"And Xander?"

"He's… I mean, he's not a warlock or anything. He's pretty strong, though, and brave. He goofs things up sometimes, but he's mostly up for anything and he always means well. He's kind of our moral compass-slash-comic relief."

"He sounds nice."

"He is." She smiled, imagining how Xander and Tara would interact. Hopefully, his humor would help put her at ease and fend off Tara's innate self-consciousness. "You'll meet him someday. Soon. He'll like you. Actually, if he didn't have a vengeance demon girlfriend, he'd probably try to hit on you. Relentlessly."

"Vengeance demon?"

"Well, ex-vengeance demon. Anya, formerly Anyanka. She's… well, you'll see when you meet her."

Tara froze, and Willow noticed the hair on her arm stand on end. The redhead frowned at the change and gently rubbed her arm, as though smoothing it down again would undo the damage.

"An ex-demon? You mean... she's human now? That's possible?"

"I guess so. In her case at least. You wouldn't know it to talk to her, though. She doesn't talk about anything but sex and evisceration."

It took almost a full minute for Tara to relax again, and Willow wondered what she had said that made her react like that. _So many secrets… _She dismissed the thought– and all other thoughts– as Tara gathered her closer and stroked her hair behind her ears, tracing their outline with a single fingertip.

"So Xander's dating a… an _ex_-vengeance demon, you dated a werewolf guy, and Buffy dated a vampire. Is Giles married to a gargoyle or a wendigo or something?"

Willow giggled at the thought.

"No, nothing like that. He did date a techno-pagan gypsy witch for awhile, but Buffy's de-souled vampire boyfriend Angel killed her."

Tara's hand paused in her hair.

"You people live strange and complicated lives." It resumed, gently massaging her scalp. Willow smiled widely against her.

"True. But don't forget, you're here, too."

"Yeah. I'm here, too."

They both sat curled together, enjoying the closeness and mostly ignoring the movie, Willow occasionally filling her in on the finer points of the mystifying plot. It was fun, watching Tara's face as the movie progressed, oscillating between confused and content. She happily snuggled closer, pleased that her girl seemed so much more at ease now than usual.

"We should hang out like this more often," she murmured, squeezing Tara's hand and pulling her bare arm more securely around her torso.

"Like what?" Tara asked, tightening her hold amenably.

"This." Willow waved her hand vaguely. "Without the freaking out and awkward stuff. Just us, like this."

"Yeah," Tara agreed. Willow could hear the warm smile in her voice, and it renewed the tingly feeling under her skin. "That'd be nice."

"Alright then. It's a date."

"I guess it is."


	20. Date Night

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For… I don't even know anymore.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: Hi, everyone. I realized the other day that I was taking so long to post because I was getting trapped in that bad writing habit where you feel like you have to plan and edit yourself into oblivion and you never really get anything on the page. And my entire reason for writing this story was to get away from that, to just get things written and see where it led me. So I sat back down and finished this. It's the first half of my Superstar.  
>AN2: In my hiatus, I did write a Christmas one-shot ('Tis the Season). It's a change of pace from this, but if you like my writing style here, you might like that as well, and I'd appreciate any feedback you have about it.  
>Anyway, without further ado…<p>

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><p>Chapter 20:<br>Date Night

"I'm really glad you wanted to come tonight," Willow said, smiling brightly. Their arms were loosely linked, keeping them warm in the night's chill.

"Are you s-sure you're okay with this?" Tara asked again, furrowing her eyebrows suspiciously.

"Yes. For the last time, yes. I'm fine. Really." The redhead slid her fingers between Tara's and squeezed reassuringly. "It's all planned out. We'll get to hear Jonathan sing, which will obviously be amazing. And I told Buffy we'd be there, so she's going to keep an eye on the door. She sees us, comes over, and then I get to introduce you two. Then we go up to the balcony, while the others stay on the main floor. We watch the show safely up there, and if everything goes well and we feel ready, we can look for Xander afterwards and you can meet him. And Anya, I guess. If we don't want to meet them yet, we can just wait for them to leave or sneak out while they're distracted. There are stairs down to the back door that make for a quick escape. It's a foolproof plan. Really. We just need to take it all in steps."

"Have you ever heard of Rube Goldberg?" Tara asked, giving her a bemused look. Willow shook her head absentmindedly, no longer paying attention. She was busy triple-checking the schedule in her head. She had planned out the night far ahead of time, with dozens of contingency plans– and contingency plans for her contingency plans– that could each be swapped out at a moment's notice. She and Tara would finally get to have something that could qualify as a date, without Hellmouth interruptions, academic distractions, or having to keep their distance in case of prying eyes. It would be perfect. Foolproof.

Tara leaned into her side slightly as they approached the warehouse, although she pulled back again as people came into view. As they had suspected, the Bronze was absolutely packed tonight, with people cramming in to hear Jonathan play. Tara tensed at the sight of the brimming crowd, but Willow squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"It'll be worth it," Willow promised. Tara offered a weak smile, and they continued on towards the lights and noise. As they drew near, the muffled sound of a male voice drifted through the door. Willow gave an excited hop. "I can hear him!"

"Me, too." Tara grinned excitedly at the sound of Jonathan's flawless tenor, and Willow urged them forward. They made their way to the door, straining their ears to listen for more of Jonathan's singing. When they weaved through the crowd and through the door, Willow drew herself up on her toes, casting her eyes around for the blonde hair of her best friend. She didn't see her. Or Xander. In fact, she couldn't even see Jonathan. The stage was empty, his voice coming from a recording, one of his many platinum records.

"Where is he?" Tara asked, looking around curiously. The people around them in the nightclub seemed unusually agitated.

"I don't know." Willow frowned. "I don't see Buffy here either."

She felt Tara's hand tighten over hers.

"Do you think something happened? You know, something… Hellmouth-related?"

"Maybe. Hold on." The redhead scanned the crowd until she recognized a face. _There. _There was a boy in one of the huddled groups near them that she was pretty sure she had tutored in high school chemistry. _David, maybe? Hopefully he's aged better than Percy._ Reluctantly releasing Tara's hand for the moment, she stepped towards him, interrupting their conversation. "Hey– sorry– where did Jonathan go? Did something happen?"

A few people in the group looked up as she approached, but David was the one to speak.

"Yeah. Some girl, Karen something, came running in right as he was starting a song from his new album."

Willow's eyes widened at the news.

"You mean _Jonathan on Jonathan_? He was really–" she caught herself, forcing the excitement down in favor of practicality. "I mean, um, what did she want?"

"She was hurt or something. Something attacked her. Jonathan went to take care of it."

Willow nodded solemnly.

"He's so brave." A murmur of agreement went around the group. "Thanks." She turned back to Tara, who had easily overheard the conversation. "I guess that's it then. Buffy must have gone with him. He lets her tag along sometimes, even though she mostly just gets in the way. It makes her feel important."

"I think it's sweet," Tara said, smiling softly. "Do you think she's coming back?"

"I don't know. I guess we could wait around for a little bit. I mean, at least they're still playing his music." She looked at one of the mounted speakers, which was blaring one of Jonathan's famous drum solos. "Although I already have this album at home."

"I think everyone does," Tara pointed out.

"Probably." Willow scuffed her feet against the floor. "Man, I can't believe this. I really wanted you to meet her." _I can't believe this keeps happening. Or _not_ happening, really. At this rate, I'll be introducing the two of them at our wedding._

"Me, too." Tara squeezed her arm comfortingly. "It's fine, though. We can just… do something else. Another time." She shrugged helplessly.

"I guess." Willow looked around. "Well, _we're_ still here. You want to grab a table?"

Tara nodded. She tried to stifle some of her smile, but it was clear in her eyes. Willow linked their arms and began zigzagging through the crowd, which in Jonathan's absence was slowly starting to disperse. It took a few minutes, but they finally managed to find a small table with two chairs, tucked into a corner.

"So, here we are," Willow announced once they were seated.

"What?" Tara's voice was almost completely swallowed by the dull roar of the crowd. Willow frowned and dragged her chair over so that they could hear each other. It also had the benefit of bringing their knees within touching distance.

"A little loud, huh?" Willow said, somewhat abashed. Tara shrugged a little.

"It's okay." She inched closer to Willow as someone passed on her other side. "Do you… Do you think the crowd's gonna clear out? Since Jonathan's not here?"

Willow lay a hand on her knee and looked towards the doors. More people were trickling out than in.

"Yeah, I think we just have to wait awhile." She rubbed Tara's knee gently, probing her expression with concerned eyes. "We can leave, though, if you want. We could just get coffee or something."

Tara shook her head, embarrassed.

"No, it's alright. We can stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." She covered Willow's hand with her own and forced herself to relax. "So… here we are. On a date. Right?" Her eyes were hopeful, but with an edge of insecurity. Willow just grinned goofily.

"Yes. Definitely on a date." She liked the sound of it. _On a date. Me and Tara on a date. Study tonight? Oh no, I can't, Buffy, I'm going on a date with Tara. Because we're dating. Tara and me._

"Okay then." Tara's warm smile reassured her, and her light blue eyes revealed a hint of mischief. Willow watched her coax her face into mock-seriousness. "So then… what's your take on long walks on the beach?"

Willow's first response was a fit of laughter. She loved Tara's unexpected jokey, playful side. She just wished it could come out more.

"Oh, I'm in favor of them." Willow answered finally. "As long as you watch out for our old high school swim team."

"Bullies?" Tara guessed.

"Sea monsters."

"Of course." The blonde nodded with false bravado. "That was my second guess."

Over the next hour, the crowd thinned considerably. The pair had thoroughly amused themselves talking about whatever came to mind, including Tara's absentminded English professor ("He actually writes over his own writing, so you can't read anything."), Willow's disastrous first roommate ("Our room was like a clown car full of drunk people!"), the perils of late-night television watching ("So the elevator would grow teeth or something. And growl."), and Jonathan's newest autobiography ("That part about him and the moon landing was incredible!"). Once the warehouse's floor was comfortably sparse, Willow grabbed a few sodas from the bar and eagerly dragged Tara towards one of the vacant pool tables.

"Okay, so here's the game. Every time I get a ball in the pocket, you have to tell me something about yourself. Something I don't know yet," Willow explained, holding out a cue. Tara laughed, but nodded, taking the stick from her.

"Fine, but the same goes for you."

"Deal."

Willow began rallying the numbered balls and gestured for Tara to break. She stood at the end of the table, head cocked, considering the shot.

"Have you played a lot before?" Willow asked as she lined up the first shot.

"Who knows. Maybe you should make that your first question," Tara teased, neatly knocking the white ball into the triangle of colored ones. They scattered, bouncing chaotically off the walls. None went in. Willow narrowed her eyes playfully at her.

"Maybe I will." She approached the table and looked at her options. There was nothing good. She scowled, until a wonderfully wicked idea occurred to her. She lined up the shot, and sent the cue ball directly into the corner pocket. "So, milady, why don't you tell me about your billiards experience?"

Tara arched an eyebrow at her.

"But that was a scratch," she pointed out.

"The rules were just that I had to hit a ball into the pocket. I did. So start talking." She crossed her arms smugly as Tara rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Cheater." Willow saw her grip tighten on her pool cue, but she seemed to speak willingly. "There was a bar in my town that had a few old arcade games and a pool table. There wasn't much else to do, so I played there sometimes." She fished the cue ball from the pocket and began to set up a new shot. "I could probably beat you at Space Invaders, too." She scored. "Stripes." She paused for a minute, thinking up a question. "Why are you afraid of ponies?"

Willow blushed, but laughed at the question.

"I don't mind the _concept_ of them. They're pretty and majestic and all. But there was one at a birthday party when I was a kid, and it bit me. _Hard_. And it _hurt_. And they're a lot bigger than you'd think. Especially when you're six. So that kind of ruined it for me."

Tara nodded, satisfied.

"Understandable. Ponies can be mean." She lined up another shot, which missed. "Your turn. And no funny business this time." She wagged a scolding finger in Willow's direction.

"Fine. From now on, I'll actually try." She attempted a wild shot, and somehow knocked a solid into a side pocket. She whooped triumphantly, to Tara's amusement. The redhead cocked her head, trying to think of a really good question."Actually, I don't want to ask anything. I just want you to tell me something. Anything you think is interesting about Tara."

"Tara's not all that interesting–" Willow started to interrupt her, but was ignored. "–but I'll try." The blonde paced the length of the table, pondering her answer. "Tara… can read and speak Latin pretty well," she said finally.

"Because of magic?" Willow asked.

"Mostly. My… um… my mom started teaching me when I was little, and there was a Catholic school in my town where I took lessons."

"So can you read, like, the Aeneid and stuff in the original language?" Tara nodded, taking a sip of her soda. "That's cool. Latin poetry must be beautiful."

The blonde raised her head from the glass and shook it in disapproval.

"Oh, you don't ever want to read Latin poetry. It's really… obscene."

"Really?" Willow's curiosity was piqued. "How?" Tara just put her hands on her shoulders and turned her towards the table again.

"It's still your turn," she reminded her.

"Oh! Right!" Willow quickly made another wild shot, yielding nothing.

The game quickly deteriorated into silliness, and by the time Tara knocked the 8-ball into the corner pocket, ending the game with Willow's final revelation ("My favorite trees are actually oaks. I've never liked willows. They're all crooked and stringy, like they're about to keel over dead."), their faces were sore from smiling and laughing.

They walked home with purposeful slowness, their arms entangled and their hands clasped. They didn't separate when they reached Kresge, just standing quietly together.

"That was really fun," Tara murmured, the levity of the night giving way to seriousness. "Thank you."

Willow rotated to stand in front of her, taking both of Tara's hands in hers. There was just something about them– the softness, the warmth, the shape, the weight of them– that she couldn't get enough of. Their hands just belonged together.

"I had fun, too. A lot, actually. More than I've had in a really long time." She looked up and met Tara's eyes. "To be honest… I don't really want to say goodbye."

Tara looked at her for a long moment before glancing towards the building.

"You could… I mean… You don't really have to. N-not necessarily."

Willow oscillated her gaze between Tara and the dorm before settling on the girl of her dreams, and deep in her chest, knotted and tense, she knew she didn't want to leave Tara alone. She wanted to go in with her, or bring her back to Stevenson, or take her out for a midnight cup of coffee. Anything but leaving her here alone.

Tara had apparently read the look in her eyes, and Willow abruptly noticed that their faces were now a few inches closer than they had been. She felt her breath catch in her chest. Since that first morning, Tara had stood back and let Willow set their pace. Tonight, though, she seemed to have found something in herself– confidence, bravery, resolve, exasperation– that let her let herself make the first move. Willow closed her eyes.

She could barely feel Tara's breath on her lips when a sudden crash broke the intimate silence of the moment. Willow's nighttime instincts kicked in, and she sprang back, looking towards the source, searching the night for vampires or demons. Tara flinched back as well, but it seemed to be provoked more by Willow's withdrawal than from the noise.

The noise itself had come from inside Kresge, probably just a student coming or going or knocking something over. Willow returned her attention to Tara, who stood a few feet back, still cringing. Willow stepped forward, feeling a little guilty.

"Sorry. Sunnydale instincts," she chuckled weakly. _Speaking of…_ "I should probably head back to my room. Wait for Buffy. Find out what happened with Jonathan." She lay a hand on Tara's arm. "But I'll see you tomorrow, right?" She could hear the fear and hope in her own voice. Luckily, Tara seemed to understand. She relaxed a little and nodded.

"Tomorrow." She smiled weakly, waiting for Willow to depart. The redhead was having some trouble convincing her feet to move, though. The same feeling that had clenched in her chest was now rooting her feet to the ground, as well as making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She didn't want to leave. She didn't want to leave Tara alone there. _But I have to. Buffy might need me. And I don't know what might happen if I stay._

She forced herself to take a few tiny steps back, her hand slipping down Tara's arm to her hand, fingers refusing to release until the last possible second. Finally, they were separated, and Willow took a few more shaky steps away.

"Good night, Willow," Tara's voice followed her as she left.

_Yes, it was._

— ––

The ominous feeling didn't leave her in her walk back to Stevenson. She dragged her feet so badly that it took almost ten minutes to reach her own dorm from Tara's. It just sat in the back of her mind, gnawing at her, as though she had forgotten something vitally important. But there wasn't anything.

She dragged herself up the stairs to her room. Buffy was standing by the closet, buttoning up a pajama top. Her purse lay on her bed as though she had just gotten back.

"Hey Will," she said, closing the closet door and heading for her own bed. "I didn't expect to beat you back."

"Yeah, Tara and I decided to stay at the Bronze and finish our date." She headed for her dresser and pulled out a pair of fuzzy pajamas, hoping they would help her relax and ignore the bad feeling. Buffy watched her curiously.

"Did it not go well?" she asked tentatively.

"No, it was great. Amazing, really." The words were true, but her voice was detached and morose.

"That's not what your face says."

Willow pulled the pajama top over her head, contemplating the tightness in her chest.

"I've just had this weird feeling since I dropped her off. Like I did something wrong."

"Did you forget to kiss her goodnight?" Buffy teased, smirking. Willow shook her head slightly.

"She almost kissed me, but some klutz accidentally interrupted. It kind of ruined the moment."

"Smoochus interruptus?" Buffy suggested.

"Something like that." Willow shrugged helplessly. "It doesn't matter now, I guess. What happened with you and Jonathan?"

"Nothing, really. He said it was just some creature that accidentally wandered out into the open. He said it's harmless. Nothing to worry about."

Willow nodded instantly.

"Well, if Jonathan said it, it must be true." Buffy didn't respond. "Right?"

The Slayer hesitated for several seconds.

"Right." She shook her head, as though shaking off a dizzy spell. "Yeah. I mean, of course it's true. He's Jonathan." She nodded more confidently to herself. "Are you seeing Tara again tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Then I wouldn't worry so much. Whatever it is, you'll work it out."

"I don't know. You get bad feelings sometimes, don't you? And it usually means there's something bad going on."

"Yeah, but that's my Slayer sense. It's all mystical and junk."

"And you don't have a bad feeling about anything now?"

Buffy's answer came about a half second too late for Willow to be truly reassured.

"Go to sleep, Will. You'll feel better in the morning."

She rolled over and closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn't come for a long time.


	21. Omens

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language (For real this time! Someone said a bad word! I'm so happy!) and occasional mentions of sex.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: You'd thinking editing 4000 words instead of 1000 would only take 4 times as long, but for baffling reasons, it's more like 40, so I'm posting in shorter parts to preserve my sanity and curtail the constant rewrite process. That's my reasoning for the length of this chapter. The next one should follow soon.  
>AN2: This fic is celebrating two happy occasions. The first: 50,000 words! That's like a NaNoWriMo novel length! The second: Its first birthday! Beer Very Bad is now over a year old! Who'd have thought the silly whim I had to post that first chapter would lead to all this? In any case, I'm glad you all are still reading and enjoying this. I still like writing it. So have no fear; it will not be abandoned.

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><p>Chapter 21:<br>Omens

Willow dragged herself out of bed with an irritated grumble. It was still too early, but her body refused to sleep any longer. She had spent the night tossing and turning restlessly, and the little sleep she managed to get hadn't removed the ominous feeling she had about last night. If anything, it had only gotten worse. Buffy, not having the same problem, snoozed in her bed, unwilling to get up so early on a Saturday now that she and Riley were made up and she could sleep soundly.

Willow grumpily rifled through her closet, wondering if Tara was awake yet and if she had slept as poorly as she had.

_She says she has trouble sleeping sometimes. Maybe it's because of feelings like this, that something is wrong and she has to find out what. Maybe I should call her…_

She shook herself, trying to dislodge the idea.

_Relax, Rosenberg. You'll see her later today. Remember last time this happened? You overreacted for no reason because of a weird feeling and she was just waiting out insomnia with bad television and you looked like a crazy person._

She kept trying to shake off the feeling, but it stuck to her, taunting her like a stubborn itch hiding just out of reach, or an ambiguously worded question on a test. Finally giving up, she finished pulling on clothes and wandered out of the room in search of breakfast. The halls weren't crowded this early in the morning, but a few unlucky coeds with Saturday classes loitered about in Stevenson's student lounge, chatting or hurriedly finishing homework. She paused in front of a coffee vending machine, wondering if the low-quality, caffeine-infused muck would be an acceptable stand-in for an actual breakfast. _Like I'm not jittery enough as it is…_ A boy and a girl stood in front of her in line, the boy talking while the girl made her selection.

"I'm just glad I'm not in Stevenson or Kresge this year. Talk about dodging a bullet, right?"

Willow resisted the urge to flinch. Word had traveled quickly about the Gentlemen-related heart-stealing death in Stevenson, and most students now considered the dorm bad luck.

"Why Kresge?" the girl asked, trying to feed a dollar into the uncooperative machine.

Willow found herself also interested in the answer. It was probably something about fewer bathrooms per floor or being further from the main buildings, but hearing it mentioned in the same breath as Stevenson made that nervous feeling reassert itself. She could feel a slight tremor starting in her fingertips.

"You probably haven't heard yet." The boy seemed proud of his insider knowledge, and leaned against the machine in a way he presumably thought looked cool. "Some guys broke in last night and trashed the place. There's broken stuff everywhere."

"Shit. Did anyone die?"

"Dunno. They haven't found anyone yet, but I guess we'll have to wait and hear if anyone's unaccounted for."

"What's the deal with this place, anyway?"

Willow never heard 'what the deal with this place' was over the sound of blood roaring in her ears and the impact of her sneakers against the hard tile floor.

By the time she reached Kresge, her sneakers were soaked from running through the dewy grass, and the cold was seeping into her socks. A campus security officer stood by the entryway, consulting with someone on his radio. Willow brushed past him, scowling. She was never sure whether to be annoyed or relieved that the police were never around when the Hellmouth opened its maw, but if it led to Tara being in danger, then she decided she was downright furious about it. Still, there was no evidence besides her churning stomach and shaking hands that anything had happened to Tara. _Yet._

As soon as Willow entered the building, she could see the damage. A water fountain had been wrenched from the wall, and water from the exposed pipes created a small flood in the entryway. She trudged through, ignoring the cold water that invaded her already-soaked footwear. The student lounge had seen even more damage. Tables were overturned, chairs were scattered, and some broken glass was being swept into a pile by the students and staff who were already starting to clean up. Anxious green eyes eagerly searched the group of students righting tables and collecting trash, but she didn't see Tara. Trying to quell the panic rising in her chest, she hopped up the stairs two at a time towards Tara's room.

Once upstairs, she pounded on the solid wood of Tara's door and pressed her ear against it to listen for movement. She didn't hear anything. She pounded again. There was no response. She tried the handle. It was locked. In a final Hail Mary, she jogged over to the rec room door and poked her head in. Empty. She shakily backed away, her heart racing.

_Okay, this may be cause for some panicking. I know she got back inside safely. She's a light sleeper, so she definitely would have heard my knock. She doesn't have any classes this morning. She wouldn't have gone to breakfast without helping out downstairs. Where else could she be at this hour?_

She paced in front of Tara's door, briefly contemplating casting a finding spell. Unfortunately, even with all the progress she had made magic-wise, the odds of it going right without Tara's guidance and supplies was not great, especially in her current emotional state. With a sigh, she braced against the door and tried to calm down. Her hands felt clammy and her head spun like she was fighting off a fever. Still, she couldn't just run around Sunnydale blindly, stopping every blonde she saw. She would have to resign herself to waiting for Tara to return to the dorm. In the meantime, she would call Buffy from the phone in the lounge, if it was still intact. She would want to know about something big and strong trashing the campus. Riley, too, probably. Maybe they could even ask Jonathan to help_._ That idea comforted her a little.

Adrenaline still curdling her blood, she descended the stairway again. There were a few more people around now, and most of the displaced furniture had been returned to its original place. Willow absently picked up a chair and set it next to one of the intact tables. _Whatever came through here must have been big. And angry._ She looked around for a campus phone to call Buffy with. As she searched, still watching the entryway for Tara, a mustachioed man in a janitor's uniform came through the door, grimacing at the mess and shaking water off of his shoes. He made his way to his supply closet, which had taken quite a beating, it seemed. The door was dented and splintered in places where something had tried to break its way in, and the sign hung listlessly from a single screw. With a resigned sigh, the man tugged at the handle. He seemed surprised when it didn't open. Frowning, he took out a huge ring of keys and used one on the deadbolt. It still took him quite a bit of effort to lever the door open- it was jammed in place from abuse. With a final sharp tug, the door shuddered and gave way. The janitor sprang back with a frightened yelp.

Willow, suddenly in full Scooby mode, leaped forward to see the cause. If it was a demon, they would have to evacuate the building, and she would have to try to distract it. _Maybe there's a spell…_

As soon as she got a good view of the inside of the closet, all thoughts stopped. She felt her heart freeze, dead and cold. There was a form curled in the corner, cowering away from the door. A form with very familiar blonde hair and last night's clothes.


	22. Monster

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language and occasional mentions of sex. But not here. Just some implied violence here.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: Okay, who remembers the last time I posted twice in one week? No one? Well, happy birthday/anniversary, readers! Let's see if the momentum can keep going! So many exciting things in this chapter! Mostly sad things, but also two good things. Don't worry. Tara will be alright. It's all uphill from here.

* * *

><p>Chapter 22:<br>Monster

_No no no no no no no no no no no no no–_

"Tara!" Willow found herself kneeling in front of her so fast, she half-wondered if she had teleported there. Tara's head rested on her raised knees, her face hidden behind her folded arms, but she jolted at the sound of Willow's exclamation. "Tara, what happened? It's okay. It's me. I'm here."

Tara's head lifted slightly, and Willow's stomach dropped. The blue eyes, normally so steady and sure, now darted back and forth in alarm and disorientation, like an animal surprised to find itself trapped in a cage. Willow carefully placed her hands on Tara's crossed arms and felt her shudder. "Easy," the redhead whispered, stroking her thumbs gently over the rumpled shirt sleeves. Tara's clothes were spotted with dirt and dust from the floor, and Willow saw telltale signs of small cuts and bruises underneath. Worst of all, a drying bloodstain on her shirt suggested that there was more damage hidden by her defensive posture.

Willow leaned closer to take up more of her view, and murmured soft reassurances. _You're safe. I'm here. I've got you._ _It's going to be okay. I'm here. I'll fix this._

Finally, Tara's eyes stilled, settling on Willow's, and she released a long, shuddering breath, a little of the fight-or-flight tension leaving her.

"Tara…" Some of the tightness in Willow's chest relaxed now that she had Tara's attention, but she could still feel the trembling under her hands. "Are you okay?"

Tara's throat constricted briefly.

"N-not really." Her voice was hoarse and scratchy. Willow's vision blurred with suppressed tears, and she raised her hands to gently brush the smudges of dirt from her girlfriend's face. Tara turned her head into the soothing touch, and Willow shuddered with guilt.

"I knew," she whispered bitterly. "I knew something was wrong. I never should have left you here alone."

Tara cautiously shifted one hand out of its defensive position, lifting it to cover Willow's, holding it secure against her cheek. She took in a deep, shaky breath.

"Doesn't matter now." Willow felt the tickle of her breath on her palm. "You found me."

Willow almost laughed at the sentiment, almost disagreed. _The janitor found you. I would never have thought to look in the locked supply closet. I would have stood there in the lounge like a schmuck all day, waiting for you. Ten feet away, completely oblivious. _She barely shook off the negative thoughts. Willow's own guilt and negativity was the last thing Tara needed, especially after the night she had undoubtedly had.

"I did. I found you," Willow agreed instead. She leaned her head forward until their heads connected. "I'll always find you. I promise." She pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Now let's get you upstairs, okay?"

She wanted to know what had happened, but Tara's comfort took precedence. She still looked frightened and exhausted. Explanations could be given after she was safely in her room, clean and comfortable and all wrapped up in soft blankets.

A very subtle nod answered her. Willow nodded resolutely back. She stood, then carefully eased Tara back onto her feet. The blonde winced as her stiff legs straightened, and Willow pulled her directly into a hug. _She was probably crouched like that all night. Poor baby…_ Tara relaxed into the embrace, and buried her head briefly in the crook of Willow's neck. She still quivered weakly.

_I'll fix this. _Willow promised herself, gathering Tara as close as she dared given her injuries. After at least a minute, she finally, reluctantly drew back.

"Come on. Let's go." She kept an arm wrapped securely around Tara's hunched shoulders, encouraging her to lean against her for support.

As they emerged from the closet, it was to a dozen pairs of curious eyes, boring into them. Tara immediately shied into Willow's side, and the redhead glared lividly at the staring crowd until they sheepishly dispersed. She wouldn't let anyone make this harder on Tara than it already was.

They gingerly made their way up the stairs, and Tara fumbled blindly for her key, then promptly dropped it from shaky fingers. Willow wordlessly retrieved it and let them in. She led Tara over to the bed and encouraged her to lie down.

Once she was more or less settled, Willow sank down next to her, nerves still on fire from the shock. She reached out and began brushing the blonde hair away from Tara's face. There was a mark on her temple that she had initially thought was a smudge of dirt. Now in the light, she could see it was a livid bruise. She touched it gently with a fingertip, a lump forming in her throat.

"Tara… what happened?"

Tara shivered, either from Willow's touch or the memory of the event. Either way, Willow withdrew slightly and fetched the heavy throw blanket from the armchair in the corner. Tara looked up as the redhead carefully draped it over her.

"Something… A m-monster. Big. Strong. Like a nightmare." Her voice was small and breathy. Willow's stomach clenched, and she began smoothing out the blanket almost compulsively, running her hands over Tara's frame as though making sure she was still there in one piece.

"Here? In the dorm?" The monsters of Sunnydale usually wandered around its many graveyards, not college dorm buildings. Tara shifted just a little closer. The tremble hadn't quite left her shoulders.

"Yeah. It c-c-caught me… as I came in. It was s-so strong…" Her voice shook and died out.

"It's okay." Willow closed the distance between them, easing Tara's head into her lap. She gently kissed the injured spot, and began combing her fingers through the tangles in her hair. Guilt raged in her blood. _This didn't need to happen._ She choked on a sob, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm sorry. I should have come in with you."

A touch on her cheek surprised her. Tara's hand felt cool against her burning face. It comforted her, even as the slight tremor made her feel sick with grief.

"Not your fault." Tara whispered. She tried to smile, but it appeared more like a grimace. "Trust me… it could have kicked both of us around… no trouble."

Willow sighed softly. _But you wouldn't have been alone. We would have been together. It wouldn't have been as scary together._ She recalled Tara's resigned calmness when they had been caught in the laundry room together. It was completely different from her reaction now. In the laundry room, they had been trapped, but they hadn't been alone. Even though they barely knew each other, there was something comforting about having a friendly face there, a shoulder to lean against. In the closet, Tara had been alone with her fear. The thought of it made Willow's throat ache. She swallowed back the guilt and tried to focus on a solution.

"I need to get Buffy, I think. She needs to know about this." They had to get this thing, this monster, this nightmare, off the streets before it struck again. As she withdrew and made to stand, Tara's fingers closed around her wrist.

"You're leaving?" Her voice was equal parts disappointed and resigned. Willow immediately froze.

"No. God, no." She couldn't imagine leaving Tara like this. She wouldn't. "I'm just going to call her. I thought maybe she should come here. She can look at the damage downstairs, and you can tell her what you saw."

"Great." Tara winced, her voice tinged with weak sarcasm. "This is… exactly how I wanted to meet her."

Willow offered an almost-smile.

"Don't worry. She's met tons of people in situations like this. It's kind of an occupational hazard." As Tara released her wrist, Willow recaptured the hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "She'll like you. I promise. She already does."

Tara settled back against her pillow, and Willow crossed the room to the phone on Tara's desk. She punched in the number for their dorm room, hoping against hope that Buffy hadn't left yet. On the third ring, a half-awake voice answered.

"Who calls a college student on a Saturday morning?" Buffy's disembodied voice grumbled at her. Her shoulders slumped in relief.

"Her best friend."

"What's up, Will? Are you locked out or something?"

"No, I'm at Tara's. Kresge. Something broke in here last night. Something demonic. It attacked her."

"Oh God, is she okay?"

"I think so. Mostly, anyway. But you should get over here. The damage is intense." Willow hesitated, and her tone darkened. She lowered her voice. "Buffy, whatever did this, I don't want it alive tomorrow. Understand?"

"I'm on my way." There was a muffled click, followed by the dial tone. Willow gently set the phone back on the hook.

"She's coming," she told Tara, making her way back to the bed. The blonde lay quietly on her side, still shivering. Willow's heart ached at the sight. "Hey, why don't you change into some pajamas or something? You've been wearing those clothes all night."

"Bottom drawer," Tara murmured, eyes closed wearily. Willow managed to find a pair of soft pajamas and set them on the bed. She hesitated, wondering if Tara would need her help changing or if she would feel too vulnerable with Willow's eyes on her. Before she could ask, Tara sat up and pulled off her dust-smeared shirt. Willow almost looked away, but the color red caught her eye, and she focused on a shallow gash on Tara's side. It was covered again within seconds, but it was enough for Willow's heart to clench painfully. _Tara's hurt, Tara's hurt_, it repeated in unhappy turmoil.

Tara sat on the bed, now wearing pajamas, with the blanket wrapped around herself. She had calmed significantly, but the tremble hadn't abated. Willow cupped her cheek again, and for the first time noticed the feverish heat radiating from her skin.

"Lie back down. I'm going to get some water. I'll be right back, I promise." She found a bowl and washcloth and made a brief trip to the bathroom sink to fill it. She also fetched a bottle of water from Tara's fridge and had her drink some of it. By the time an anxious knock sounded at the door, she was carefully bathing Tara's face with the cool cloth, trying to break the nervous fever and clean off the dirt and sweat. Tara lay quietly, letting her.

At the sound of the knock, Tara shuddered. Willow jumped up to answer the door and stop the noise that probably reminded Tara of the night before. Behind the door was a somewhat haphazardly dressed, very concerned Slayer.

"Buffy." Relief flushed through Willow's bloodstream, and she ushered her friend into the room.

"I saw downstairs. Is she okay?" Buffy asked, brow creased with worry. Her eyebrows raised slightly as she saw Tara, shivering under the blanket, bruised and disheveled.

"Not really," Willow murmured, returning to her girlfriend's side. She climbed onto the bed and settled beside her, brushing nonexistent stray hairs away from her face. Buffy approached slowly, watching her best friend fuss over the traumatized girl. The Slayer kneeled down to Tara's eye level, hazel eyes giving her a thorough inspection. She waited until Tara's eyes blinked open and regarded her nervously before speaking.

"Hey, Tara. Nice to finally meet you. Sorry about the circumstances," she said softly. Tara attempted a smile.

"You too." She glanced around self-consciously. "I'm usually more… um… vertical."

"I'll take your word for it," Buffy promised. "Hey, Willow tells me the first time you met me, I was Faith, so I think we're about even."

"Good."

"Are you alright? I mean, aside from the obvious?"

Tara looked down at herself, as though taking stock of everything.

"I… th-think so," she finally murmured. Willow scooted closer, continuing her mindless ministrations. She wanted to lie down and hold her, but she didn't know how much abuse had been suffered, and didn't want to hurt her any worse.

"She can't stop shaking," she told Buffy, watching the phenomenon for any sign of change. The Slayer's eyes turned serious.

"What happened, Tara? What did this?"

Willow answered in her stead, fingers still combing through her hair.

"We were going to meet you at the Bronze, but you were already gone. We stayed there for a while, but we didn't know if you were coming back, so I thought I'd wait for you in Stevenson." Bitterness crept into her voice. "I dropped her off here. It must have already been in there, just waiting for someone."

Buffy laid a hand on Tara's shoulder.

"Tara, what was it?"

The girl shuddered, and Willow pulled the blanket higher and smoothed it flat again.

"A monster," Tara whispered. "Big. Lumpy. With something on its head. Like a star. Or a Greek letter… only not."

"Are you sure?" Buffy's gaze had grown dark.

Tara blushed slightly.

"I think so. I… was mostly… um… fleeing," she admitted quietly.

Willow spoke up defensively.

"I found her in a supply closet this morning. She had been there all night. Alone." The last word was punctuated with a note of despair. "The door was all busted up, like it tried to break in after her."

Buffy raised her eyebrows.

"Sounds like a close call."

Willow nodded unhappily, shifting closer to the injured girl.

"Too close."

Buffy stood and walked to the desk, picking up a spare scrap of paper and a pen and scribbling something. Willow took the opportunity to kiss Tara's cheek and whisper a brief reassurance. Buffy returned to the bedside with her scrap of paper.

"Tara, I know you were probably scared, but… the mark… Did it look like this?" She held it up. It was a triangle with an X through it. Tara shivered compulsively, and nodded, her eyes locking onto the dreaded symbol. Willow didn't recognize it. She gave Buffy a confused look.

"Buffy, what is that? Do you know what the monster is?" she accused. The Slayer nodded grimly.

"It's what attacked Karen last night," she said. She shook her head, seeming distracted. "But it doesn't make sense. Jonathan said it was harmless. He said it would be okay."

Confusion settled over Willow as her trust in Buffy and concern for Tara warred with her implicit faith in Jonathan. Her hand paused midway through Tara's hair.

"Jonathan said that?" She shook her head, not understanding. "But… how…"

Buffy's expression grew resolute.

"I don't know, but I want to find out." She took a step back, in the direction of the door. "Are you staying here?"

"Definitely." Willow peered down at Tara with soft eyes, knowing that she wouldn't leave her alone again. Buffy nodded understandingly, but Tara raised her head slightly.

"Willow…" she murmured, giving her a serious look. Buffy quietly slipped out the door to give them privacy. "You should go."

Confusion and betrayal invaded Willow's already-busy head. _Go? Leave? Leave Tara? Alone?_

"Tara, no. You're still hurt."

"I'll be okay. I just need rest…" She settled her head back on the pillow. Willow gave her a dubious look.

"Do you think you can sleep?" _Alone?_ She left the final word unspoken.

"Maybe." Tara shifted, then grimaced. "Maybe not. But I'll be okay. You should help Buffy."

"She can handle herself."

"Yesterday, you said she couldn't slay her way out of a paper bag."

"Well, admittedly, that was a little hyperbolic, but–"

"Willow, she needs your help to stop the… m-monster. So it can't hurt anyone else, o-or come back here. I just… need to know it's gone."

Willow bowed her head. Despair and sympathy threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to fix things. Part of her wanted to find the monster and rip it limb from limb slowly with her bare hands while explaining why nothing and no one was allowed to hurt her Tara ever for any reason. But a larger part of her wanted to stay with Tara and curl up beside her and protect her from the world and make sure she felt safe and cared for. She couldn't do both. And Tara was asking her to leave.

"Are you sure?" She hoped that Tara would say 'no,' that she would tell her to stay. But she just set her jaw with determination.

"Trust me."

Willow sighed regretfully. She climbed off the bed and knelt beside it, peering into Tara's bravest expression.

"Okay," she acquiesced. "Stay here. Just rest and drink more water. Eat something if you can. I'll be back as soon as possible. Okay?"

"Okay." Tara settled more comfortably under the blanket. Several seconds passed without either of them moving. "Aren't you going?"

Willow continued her intense gaze, a different sort of determination building inside her.

"Not yet." She reached out and lightly touched Tara's cheek with her fingertips. "I should have done this last night." She leaned forward and pressed her lips against Tara's. It was brief, but she immediately knew it was the right decision. A warmth formed in her chest, and she felt a sensation not unlike standing in the sun on a warm day. When she pulled back, Tara's eyes were closed and a ghost of a smile touched her face. The stubborn trembling that had wracked her body for so long finally subsided. "There. I'll be back for more."

The ghost of a smile solidified into the real version.

"You'd better."


	23. Good Morning

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language and occasional mentions of sex. But not in this chapter.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: This is short, but I just thought we needed a quiet moment to follow the stress of the last chapter. And, like I said before, I want to keep the momentum going, even if it means short chapters.

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><p>Chapter 23:<br>Good Morning

Willow blinked down at the sleeping girl in her arms. Pale morning sunlight was streaming through the curtains, but Tara didn't stir. Her face was turned into Willow's shoulder, shielding her eyes from the light. In the pale sunlight, her fair hair almost seemed to glow as it lay splayed across the pillow and partially across Willow's pajama top. A gap in the strands exposed the bruise on her temple, which was just barely starting to heal. Willow's heart swelled at the sight. _A fallen angel…_

As soon as Buffy had returned the night before, Willow had hurried back to Tara's side. In fact, her need to get back to her girlfriend, coupled with the last dregs of the paragon spell, had been the only thing that had stopped her from killing Jonathan outright when Buffy explained the situation. She still had hazy plans to find him and explain exactly how many ways she could make him suffer if he ever even _thought_ about using magic and putting Tara in danger ever again. And then maybe demonstrate a few of them.

In the meantime, she had a girlfriend to snuggle.

She had kept a sleepless vigil all night, just in case Tara had trouble sleeping or woke from a nightmare. She was now exhausted and her higher brain function was a little fuzzy, but it had been worth it. She had chased off two nightmares so far, and she had gotten to watch Tara in the changing light that fell through the gaps in the curtains. The bluish-silver light of the moon and street lamps had turned her almost ethereal, pale with silver-white hair, like a ghost. When dawn came, the color changed to washed-out white, before finally fading into the pale yellow it was now. Soon, it would turn gold as the sun made its full appearance. Willow decided that she liked the east-facing window. She also decided that she liked holding Tara and watching her sleep all night.

Tara sighed softly, which Willow had learned was a fairly common occurrence. And a kind of cute occurrence. She imagined it was some reaction to a dream. The puff of air made a few strands of her hair flutter. They brushed against the sleeping girl's nose, and she scrunched it in protest. Stifling a chuckle, Willow carefully stroked the stray strands away from her face. Tara stirred at the touch, and her eyes barely peeked open.

"Shh. Go back to sleep," Willow whispered as blue eyes blinked sleepily up at her.

"Willow?" the blonde murmured, still not lifting her heavy head. Her voice was rough and quiet from sleep.

"Yeah. I'm here."

"What time is it?"

"Too early." Willow pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, not for the first time that night. "Sleep."

The blonde momentarily ignored her command, instead letting her eyes open wider and sweep her surroundings.

"Mmm. This looks familiar," she commented, smirking. "You gonna run away again?" Her voice was mostly teasing, but the remnants of sleep made it hard to be sure.

"Not unless you want me to," the redhead answered seriously. Tara, in response, splayed a hand possessively over her stomach and snuggled back into her shoulder. Willow smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay." Her eyelids fell shut again. "A little sore. And sleepy."

"I'll bet." Another kiss in her hair. "Go back to sleep."

"Did you sleep okay?" Tara asked, already making herself more comfortable by tucking her head into the soft skin of Willow's neck. Willow felt the wayward blonde hair tickle her, but immediately decided that it was a pleasant kind of tickle, so she didn't mind.

"It was a good night," she said simply. It wasn't a lie. It had been a very nice night, albeit one that didn't include sleep. She might have shrugged if it wouldn't have meant disturbing Tara's resting place.

"Good," Tara echoed. Willow heard a soft yawn near her ear. "You going back to sleep?"

"No, I'm alright."

"Won't you get bored? Just lying there?" Her voice was already growing soft and slurred.

"I'll be fine," Willow promised honestly. "Go back to sleep, baby."

Tara barely murmured her ascent, settling in for another few hours of rest. Willow began slowly trailing her fingertips up and down her back. She felt Tara relax completely under her touch, breathing a long, final sigh. Within minutes, she had returned to the deep, even breathing of slumber.

"That's my girl," Willow whispered, maintaining her quiet vigil. She could sleep later, once she was sure Tara was well-rested and feeling better. Until then, she would guard her dreams.

It was hours later, after the sunlight turned gold and began climbing the sky, that Tara woke for real, one of her soft sighs turning into a wide yawn and a huge stretch. And Willow was there to watch over her.


	24. Safe

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language and occasional mentions of sex.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: Hi everyone. It seems we're here in delay-land again. I had to move, and my computer also crashed after months of being in a death spiral. I sent it in to get its faulty logic board replaced, so hopefully it will stop freezing and crashing on me now. Many of the crashes took writing progress with them, so this is actually the third or fourth incarnation of this chapter. Hopefully you'll enjoy. On the upside, this ended up being a fairly long chapter because I decided to give it a full arc. So… there's that.

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><p>Chapter 24:<br>Safe

_Footsteps pounded against the ground, trying to keep pace with the frantic heartbeat driving them. She was late. Too late. She knew it. Something bad was happening at Kresge, and she was too late to stop it. Her feet fumbled as she dodged around trees and people and streetlights, trying to get there in time. It felt like she was running through water, fighting for each step, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't run fast enough. There was also something slippery under her feet, which she could only see out of the corner of her eye. Red-backed playing cards, like puddles of blood on the ground, spilled across her path, threatening to trip her._

_As she ran, sick fear and anticipation welled up inside her, turning her stomach and making her eyes sting. She had to be getting close. She could see the doors now, looming like the gates to a graveyard. It was surely only a matter of seconds before she would reach them. Maybe she could still get there in time, before the Bad Thing happened. The Bad Thing that would eclipse all other Bad Things that had ever happened._

_She reached the door and threw herself against it. For a second, the door became a soda machine in a laundry room. The next second, it was a barred door, like the ones that had caged Oz as a wolf. Then a black iron gate to a graveyard. With a cry of frustration, she rattled it with her hands until it turned back into the double doors of Kresge. But it still didn't open._

_From the other side of the doors, she heard a low growl, which crescendoed into a deafening roar. Then came a heart-stopping scream of terror. The grotesque sound of something tearing. A cry of pure agony. The howl of a monster. The whimper of a girl._

"Willow!"

_Now Tara's panicked voice called her name. Willow, with renewed determination, threw herself against the ungiving wood, ramming it with her shoulder, clawing at it with desperate fingers. Another roar came from behind the door, and a crash. Tears welled in Willow's eyes. She had to get through. She had to save her. Protect her. But she couldn't. She was too late. Too weak. Like always. She collapsed against the door, sobbing as the guilt and shame consumed her._

"Willow!"

Light flooded her vision as she started awake with a shuddering gasp. Her heart slammed against her chest like it was trying to break out, and her face was wet from cold sweat and hot tears. A foreign pressure held her upright, and she had to blink several times before her swimming vision cleared enough to see what was there: a pair of deeply concerned blue eyes peering down at her.

"Tara…" Willow breathed. Great, sweeping relief instantly loosened the nightmare's grip on her, and she gratefully buried her face in the crook of Tara's neck. The skin there was soft and warm, and Tara's pulse thudded reassuringly against her ear.

"It's okay. W-whatever it was, it was just a dream," Tara promised, gathering her close. Willow let out a shuddering breath, repeating silent mantras in her head. Her heart still ached from the memory of the night terror, like a hand was clenched around it, squeezing it painfully.

_She's okay. The monster didn't get her. The monster's gone now. She's alive. She's safe. She's here. She's okay._

Even with Tara's soothing ministrations, it was a few minutes before she really felt steady again, at which point she realized the inherent wrong-ness of the situation. She froze as it sank in. This was backwards. Tara was comforting her, stroking her hair, whispering reassurances of safety. It was supposed to be the other way around. Tara was the one who had been attacked and hurt, not Willow. Tara was the one who deserved comfort. Willow braced herself. Going against every instinct she had, she pulled back out of Tara's embrace and put on a brave mask.

"I'm okay. It was just a bad dream," she said, as Tara gave her a questioning look. She clenched her hands over her jeans to keep them from visibly shaking. Tara's terrified screams still echoed in the back of her head. "Nothing serious. Just the usual. I, um, failed a test. And– and it was raining frogs." She forced a weak, self-deprecating chuckle. The crease between Tara's eyes suggested that she wasn't completely buying it.

"Are you sure? You… You seemed pretty scared. You were crying." Tara's hand cupped her cheek and her thumb wiped at the moisture there. Willow blushed and pulled back again. She scrubbed at her cheek with her sleeve, trying to erase the evidence.

"Yeah. You know how dreams can get. Weird things can seem really normal, and normal things can seem really weird and scary." She cleared her throat, which felt tight and sore from crying. "I'll be fine."

"If you say so…" Tara reluctantly dropped the subject and returned to the scattered cards on the rec room floor, pushing them back into place. They had been sitting together, building card castles on the stubby, mottled carpet, but it looked like Tara had set up a game of Solitaire while she slept.

"How long was I asleep?" Willow asked, wiping her face again for good measure.

"Not long. Only about twenty minutes," Tara answered, still watching her warily out of the corner of her eye. "We could go back to my room. You know… if you're still tired. We could lie down. Together."

Willow shook her head stiffly. She was exhausted from her all-night vigil, her body tense and sore, and her twenty-minute, adrenaline-charged, upright nap on the hard floor hadn't helped. Still, she didn't want to risk sleeping. If she had that dream again, she knew she would fall to pieces. And Tara needed her to be strong.

"I'm fine. We can stay here." She forced herself to shift closer and observe Tara's solitaire game. The blonde's hands were steadier than the day before, but her bright eyes still flickered to the door almost compulsively, as though waiting for something or someone to burst in. "What about you?" Willow gently touched the blonde's arm. "Are you still feeling okay?"

Tara hesitated for a half-second, but nodded.

"I think the sleep helped. I feel better today." She raised her head to meet Willow's eyes seriously. "Thank you for staying last night."

Willow's eyes widened in surprise.

"Tara, you don't have to thank me for that. I needed to stay. I never could have left you alone after something like that."

"Still… Thank you. Really."

Willow tried to smile at her.

"It's not like I had something more important to do," she pointed out. "Unless you count all the painful ways I came up with to teach Jonathan a lesson. Some of them involve big rocks."

At Willow's eager tone, Tara's hand paused. A black six hovered over a red seven as she spared Willow a curious glance.

"You don't think he learned it already?"

Willow shook her head firmly.

"Not enough. He deserves to understand the damage that he caused. Magic isn't some toy that any random guy can play with. The cost was too high." A shiver ran down her spine as the dream forced its way back into her consciousness. _**That**__ cost is too high. Too high for anything. If the monster had killed her…_

"He didn't know the cost when he cast it, though. He didn't think he was going to hurt anyone," Tara pointed out. She had been told the full story that morning, over a breakfast of dry cereal from a box by her miniature fridge. She hadn't felt up to a trip to the cafeteria yet, especially if it involved walking past the attack site again and subjecting herself to the gazes of her dormmates.

Error messages popped up in Willow's brain at her response.

"You're defending him?" It didn't compute.

Tara was quick to clarify, waving her hands awkwardly, "No. Not really. I mean… What he did was wrong. Obviously. Really wrong. And I'm not sure I can forgive him for it– at least not yet. But… I can kind of understand _why_ he did it."

Willow was no less baffled by the explanation, which seemed entirely beside the point.

"I don't care why he did it. It doesn't matter. He should have known what the spell would do before he cast it. He should have made sure it wouldn't hurt anyone."

"Probably." Tara conceded. Still, her head canted a bit to the side and she continued speaking. "I'll bet he was lonely, though. That can make you pretty desperate." She bowed her head lower, focusing her gaze on the cards a little too intently.

Willow found herself fidgeting, imagining a younger, lonelier Tara, all alone in a small, miserable town. A Tara who might have been sorely tempted by an instant-love-and-respect-from-everyone spell. To her chagrin, part of her felt a twinge of sympathy for Jonathan. She didn't like it. Her nerves were still on edge from the nightmare, and she felt like she needed to move. Moving would keep her head clear and keep her from falling asleep again.

"Hey, why don't I go grab us some lunch?" she suggested abruptly, disrupting the lengthening silence. Tara tilted her head at the change in topic.

"Are you sure?"

Willow nodded, already half-rising to her feet with aid from the couch.

"Yeah. I wanna stretch my legs anyway, and it's getting late for lunch."

"It's only one-fifteen," Tara pointed out. Willow felt her face grow a little warmer as she was caught in her excuse.

"Okay, so maybe not that late. But I'm getting pretty hungry." This excuse at least had the benefit of being true. The tiny bowl of cereal that had served as breakfast had not been enough to sate a night's worth of hunger, any more than the twenty-minute terror-nap had been enough to make up for a night's worth of lost sleep. What she really needed now was a big lunch and an enormous cup of coffee.

"Okay. If you want," Tara murmured, still looking slightly thrown.

"Yeah. Unless you need me to stay…"

Tara was quick to wave her off.

"No, I'll be okay. I mean… as long as it's just grabbing lunch. That shouldn't take too long, right?" Her eyebrows knitted a little, making her nonchalance a little less convincing. Willow's heart gave another twinge, and she was quick with reassurance.

"Of course. I'll only be a few minutes, I promise." She caught up Tara's hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. The blonde offered a weak smile in response.

"Okay then."

Willow hesitated for a moment, rethinking her departure. But her stomach ached with hunger, and her muscles were taut with nerves, so all she did was lean in for a swift goodbye kiss, which Tara was happy to provide. As they pulled apart, Willow touched their foreheads together for a second.

"I'll be back soon."

Tara nodded silently as the redhead straightened up on cramped legs and, with a final glance back, stepped from the room.

Willow descended the stairs as quickly as her tired legs would allow. There were several places around campus where she could get both food and caffeine, but she was on a tight schedule. She picked a direction where she knew there was a nearby café and resumed her brisk pace.

The warm breeze of the great outdoors was a relief after so much time in the stale, musty air of the dorm. It revived her ever so slightly, but she still had trouble turning her mind away from the nightmare. _The idea of Tara being killed…_ She shuddered even in the warm sun. Tara did seem better today, though.

That fact, however, was a double-edged sword. Of course she wanted Tara to get better. _Obviously_. But if Tara was better, then she couldn't necessarily justify staying the night again, and she didn't relish the thought of returning to Stevenson to sleep. If she had another nightmare, she wanted to be near Tara, so she could reassure herself that she was okay. A smaller part of her also just plain enjoyed the thought of staying the night again, under less harrowing circumstances. It had been unbelievably nice, curling up together like that.

_But that's the problem_. Willow released a silent sigh as she reached the café and stood at the back of the line. Now that they were officially dating, she almost felt like there was something illicit in sleeping over. Their relationship had technically only reached the level of kissing, but it was still true that they _had _had sex already, even if only one of them remembered the experience. Although she had never kissed Tara before yesterday, Tara had already kissed her– _and much, much more_– months ago. It was a weird predicament to be in. Their relationship had started so far ahead that, in backtracking, things had slowed to a crawl. But there was still that one night, always lingering in the background. It was still hazy and dark in her own head, but Tara remembered. And Tara was the one holding back.

She reached the front of the line and promptly bought the largest size coffee they would sell her, plus an array of sandwiches and chips. She had a brief moment of confusion trying to remember if Tara drank coffee, and finally decided to just get a hot chocolate. _Hot chocolate is comforting. Maybe it'll help._

She paused as she paid for the food, noticing a number of candy bars by the cash register. She quickly added a few to the order. They could both use something sweet to take the edge off the day. She finished paying and turned tail to begin her trek back to the rec room, where Tara would be waiting for her.

She managed to keep herself distracted with thoughts of their relationship progress (and simultaneous lack thereof) until she reached the doors to Kresge. The sight of them, innocuous as they were, made a shiver run down her spine. She could still remember pounding on them, sobbing, while Tara screamed on the other side. Bile rose in her throat, but she took a moment to squeeze her eyes closed and steady herself. _She's fine. She'll be fine. It's just a nightmare. It didn't happen. It's okay. _With a shaky breath, she continued her journey.

Another shudder claimed her as she passed the supply closet. The door and frame had been removed for repairs, but Willow's sweeping glance caught a faint pinkish-red stain still discoloring the floor. Blood. Tara's blood. She was suddenly glad she hadn't eaten much that day, as her stomach once again threatened to turn over. She gritted her teeth and stubbornly marched forward towards the staircase, out of sight of the horrible place.

It was a relief when she poked her head through the rec room door and spotted Tara right where she left her, but it wasn't quite enough to shake the tension in her muscles.

"Hey," she called softly. Tara jumped at the sudden noise, and looked up for the source. A half-smile warmed her face when she saw Willow.

"Hey. You were quick."

"Yeah. I just grabbed some sandwiches and stuff. Nothing too fancy." The exhausted redhead approached and sat down next to her girlfriend, producing the bags that held their lunch.

"Sandwiches are good," Tara assured her, gingerly picking one from the paper sack. Willow just took a long drag from her coffee cup. The taste was bitter and bracing. It wasn't what her stomach wanted, but it was what her head needed. Tara, for her part, seemed somewhat cheered by the hot chocolate.

Their lunch was eaten in relative silence, Willow devouring well over half of the food to combat the night's hunger and the huge serving of coffee. Tara just munched noncommittally on whatever she happened to pick up, still mostly engrossed in her card game. Willow could have sworn she noticed her glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, however, and it set her a little on edge.

It wasn't until after she had distributed the candy that Tara finally spoke up. She finished her card game, shuffled the cards back into a single pile, and gave another sideways glance to the now twitchy, jittery, but still completely exhausted redhead.

"Willow, are you sure you're okay?" She finally turned to look her straight in the eye, deep blue concern and sympathy coloring her gaze. "You still look k-kind of… um… spooked."

Willow shook her head briskly, half in response and half to try and physically rearrange her jumbled thoughts, which now shifted seamlessly between images of Tara cowering in the closet, Tara kissing her, Tara screaming behind the locked doors, and Tara lying naked next to her in bed. It was a disturbing slide show.

"I'm fine. Really," she lied, gritting her teeth into what even she knew was more of a grimace than a smile. "I'm not the one to worry about. Not today. You just focus on getting yourself better."

As the words sank in, Tara's expression cleared a little, and her eyebrows rose an inch.

"Oh," she breathed, as though coming to a revelation. "Is... is that what this is about?" She leaned a little closer, laying a hand on Willow's knee. "Will, you're allowed to be scared, too. You don't have to act all tough for my sake. I know this was scary for you, too."

Willow blushed, ashamed, and broke eye contact, focusing instead on a dark stain on the carpet by her shoe.

"It's fine. I'm not." Even to her own ears, it was incredibly unconvincing. She gave up with a sigh, shaking her head. "Look, I'm not going to make this any harder on you than it has to be."

Tara's eyebrows knitted again in confusion.

"You're not." Her voice was bewildered. A warm hand touched Willow's cheek, turning her head until she was forced to meet Tara's eyes again. This time, her voice was soft, but forceful. "Willow, I'm a big girl. I've been through…" She paused. "…a lot of things in life. Including things m-m-much worse than this. I can handle it. You don't need to drive yourself crazy trying to protect me. I don't need that, and you don't deserve that."

Willow squeezed her eyes shut as tears burned there. Part of her wanted so badly to give in, to let Tara be the strong one for a moment. She was so tired…

"I just… I don't…" She grasped for words, but came up empty. Tara's other hand came to rest on her cheek, so that Willow's face was held entirely in her grasp.

"You look exhausted, sweetie. Did you even sleep last night?" Tara's eyes implored her, and she couldn't bring herself to lie or deflect again. She was too tired.

"You kept having nightmares. I wanted to make sure you got enough rest."

Tara raised her eyebrows.

"So you stayed up all night?" Her voice was surprised, but still gentle. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," Willow promised, giving her a pleading look. Tara looked like she wanted to argue for a second, but instead a tender expression took over her face.

"I understand. And I want to do the same thing for you." She leaned forward and set a chaste kiss on her lips. "Please."

Willow took in a slow, shaky breath, willing the war in her head to end.

"Okay."

Tara rose to her feet in a single graceful move, and offered a hand down to Willow. Willow let her lead her back to her room, locking the door behind them, and together they stretched out on the bed. Tara scooted up to sit against the headboard and guided Willow's head into her lap. Willow settled down, the warmth from Tara's body and the weight of the blankets comforting her and driving out the bad thoughts.

"See? That's better, right?" Tara murmured, running her fingers through her hair. The sensation made her yawn. The chill left her heart, replaced by a strong sense of gratitude.

"Much," she admitted. She closed her eyes and let the pleasant feelings wash over her. Tara's fingertips traced over her face with a featherlight touch. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Anytime," the blonde answered. Willow felt a hand trace its way down the back of her neck, gently rubbing at the tension there. She breathed a long, relieved sigh as the last dregs of stress gave way to oblivion.

_When she opened her eyes again, she could barely see anything for the dim light, but she felt a pair of soft, steady hands in her own._

"_Tara?" she asked softly. In response, the hands squeezed her own._

"_I'm right here," Tara's soothing voice promised. Willow took note of their surroundings. They seemed to be in some kind of closet. She thought she felt the edge of a bucket digging into her back._

"_Are we–" A rattling noise sounded as the door shuddered. Willow looked up sharply, but she wasn't afraid. She and Tara were together. They had kept each other safe from the Gentlemen, and they would keep each other safe from anything else._

"_Shh. It's okay. It can't get in here with us." Tara reassured her regardless. "We're safe."_

_Willow felt her shift closer, bringing them into closer contact. Willow just smiled and leaned forward, pulling her into a brief, but telling kiss._

"_I know."_


	25. Loans

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language and occasional mentions of sex. But not in this chapter.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: Here we are again. I wanted to show a more playful side of their relationship in this chapter, since they've been dating for awhile at this point and I haven't shown that much yet. Not everything in life is angst. The next chapter or two will be… interesting. It'll be my reimagining of "Where the Wild Things Are." So you have that to look forward to. If you dare.

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><p>Chapter 25:<br>Loans

"I'm just saying, it's barbaric. There's no need for you to subject yourself to that kind of purgatory." Willow pulled another shirt from the warm dryer and passed it to Tara, who folded it and placed it on top of a tall stack on the adjacent machine.

"Do Jews even believe in purgatory?" the blonde asked, neatly avoiding the subject as she straightened the leaning tower of shirts.

"That's besides the point and you know it." Willow narrowed her eyes at her laundry companion and bounced a scrunched-up sock off of Tara's shoulder, earning her a playful glare that threatened retaliation.

"Honestly, it's not as bad as you make it out to be. It's not like I'm hammering it out with a rock and chisel." Tara gave the sock a considering look, but apparently decided to forgo her revenge, instead tossing it into another pile. Willow turned back to the dryer to hide her growing smile.

"No, it's worse," the redhead insisted, returning to the point at hand. They had to stay on topic if she was going to make her offer to Tara. It would be a delicate procedure, and she couldn't afford to get distracted. At her accusation, her girlfriend arched an eyebrow into a skeptical expression.

"Using the school computer lab is worse than copying my assignments out on rocks?"

Willow gave a resolute nod.

"Exactly." Tara's expression prompted her to explain herself, so she continued, using her most authoritative tone. "Technology is supposed to make things better. Typing and printing an essay should be faster and easier than writing it out. Having to set aside twenty minutes to print a one-page document would be like…" She grasped for an example, finally just patting the machine in front of her with her open palm. "…like if we had to set aside eight hours to do one load of laundry in this machine. We'd be better off taking it to a river and beating it against rocks."

"It's not a big deal."

"In the time it took you to log in, open the browser, open your e-mail, and print the page, we could have walked to my dorm room, printed it out there, and bought and finished two large cups of coffee. _Each_. And two of those giant chocolate muffins they sell in the café."

Tara shook her head, amused.

"I told you you could get coffee and just meet me after," she reminded her. It was true. Willow's restless fidgeting had prompted the suggestion, but the redhead had had no desire to take her up on it. Although it had been almost a week since Jonathan's monster attack, Willow was still sleeping over and generally spending any spare moment with her recovering girlfriend. By now, Tara's bruises had faded, and even the gash on her side had healed over into a mostly painless pink line. The nightmares mostly seemed to keep their distance, and her mood had fully recovered. Soon, Willow would be out of excuses to follow her around like a guard puppy. At the thought, the redhead slumped slightly.

"But… that's no fun." It was a silly-sounding excuse, even to her own ears. Tara seemed to agree, giving her a lopsided smile.

"Because you had so much fun in the computer lab? You spent _literally_ the entire time complaining."

Willow fought back a blush. She had gotten frustrated by the sluggish computer, to the point where she had been sure that it was broken, despite Tara's insistence that it was always that slow. It had made her grumpy and indignant, but she hadn't meant to be whiny about it.

"I wanted to hang out with you," Willow mumbled. She had meant to sound defensive, but the statement had lost its edge somewhere in her throat, and it came out sounding more than a little pathetic. Tara's expression softened in response, her amused skepticism melting into a more genuine and reassuring smile.

"I know. Me, too." Her tone took on a serious undertone for just a moment, before turning playful again. "We're hanging out now, right?" Tara nudged her gently with her elbow, prompting her to relax.

Willow nodded for a moment, but cast a calculating glance out of the corner of her eye.

"Unless this is some kind of illusion," she added flippantly, then waited for Tara's reaction. The blonde paused mid-fold and tilted her head slightly.

"An illusion?" she asked, turning her head to show Willow her questioning eyebrow, arched over one sparkling blue eye. Willow nodded in mock-severity.

"Yeah. Like maybe I'm under some kind of sexy mind control. Or maybe you're a hologram. Or a hallucination. Or a robot sent to pump me for information."

Tara's eyebrow stayed arched, but the blue eyes below turned somehow darker. Willow felt her knees weaken at the sight.

"Pump you?" The blonde asked, her voice lowering an octave and taking on a sultry smoothness. It sounded like she was considering the suggestion.

Willow gulped, suddenly feeling the heat from the dryer a little too acutely.

"For information," she added, her own voice taking on Tara's lost octave and coming out as a squeak.

"Hmm. I guess that's possible." Tara stepped forward, bringing them almost nose-to-nose. She smelled like soap and fabric softener. "But could a hologram do _this_…"

Willow closed her eyes and braced herself for a heart-stopping kiss, and was therefore surprised and alarmed to find herself being smothered by a still-slightly-damp sweater. She clawed it off of her head to the muffled sound of Tara's giggles, ending with it bunched loosely in her hands.

"You do know that this means war," Willow warned, taking a step towards her grinning girlfriend, who was already backing away, eyes dancing with mirth. _You're so dead, Maclay. Nobody tricks me out of smooches._

"So come get me," Tara suggested. Willow cheerfully obeyed.

Tara was slipperier than Willow had anticipated, and nimbly dodged her first few attempts, which were admittedly hampered by the redhead's uncontrollable laughter. The situation was the best kind of ludicrous. The chase expanded to fill the entire laundry room, Tara evading her girlfriend's grasp over and over again. Finally, Willow got her cornered against the soda machine, using the sweater like a lasso to hold her in place. She pinned her there with her entire body, still panting to catch her breath after the exertion. Tara wasn't much better off, her face glowing a healthy pink from the effort. Willow could feel her ragged breath graze her lips, almost encouragingly.

"There," Willow said, once she found enough breath to speak. Her voice had lost its panicked pitch. "Now I've got you."

"You do," Tara agreed. Her voice was breathy, but had the same undertones of seriousness as before. Willow felt her heart warm at the sentiment. "So… what are you going to do with me?"

Willow felt her lips curve into a wide smile.

"Well, I was thinking, maybe…" She leaned forward. "This."

Part of her had considered retaliating by smothering Tara with the sweater, but she quickly decided that she would rather have the kissing. She covered Tara's lips with her own, lightly at first, but more firmly as she felt a pair of warm hands snake up her back. Fingers threaded themselves in her hair as the kiss deepened, and Willow felt her mind go uncharacteristically blank, like somewhere a switch had been flipped into the "off" position. For several blissful moments, all she was aware of was the movement of lips under hers, the wandering hands on her back, and the effervescent tingling that suffused her body all the way to the tips of her toes.

Awareness returned with the harsh, jarring sound of a buzzer. She pulled back with a groan, and buried her face in Tara's shoulder.

"And here I thought the laundry room was on our side," she pouted. She raised her head reluctantly and glared back at the offending machine, a dryer that had completed its cycle and would continue its deafening buzz until its door was opened. "Traitor."

Tara offered her a wry half-smile, although she didn't look any happier about the interruption.

"To be continued?" she suggested. Going against all of her instincts, Willow sighed and nodded, taking an unhappy step back to quiet the buzzing dryer. Reaching it, she yanked the door open with unnecessary force, as though hoping to punish it for ruining the moment. Tara took her place next to her again, absently tracing her own lips with her fingertips. Willow knew the feeling. Her own lips were still buzzing in an extremely pleasant way.

"Laundry is fun," Tara commented, breaking through Willow's bubble of indignity and coaxing out a laugh.

"Yeah. I must have been doing it all wrong before today."

Tara leaned sideways against the dryer, accepting each clothing item as Willow handed them up to her.

"Are you convinced I'm not an illusion yet?" she asked cheekily. Willow smirked.

"Mostly, but it never hurts to double-check." She liked that idea. She could spend several hours 'double-checking,' she was sure. "Do you have anything planned for today?"

Tara wrinkled her nose at the question.

"You're going to hate this." She forewarned. Willow's heart sank in anticipation of disappointment. "I actually have to go back to the computer lab and work on another paper."

Willow heaved a sigh so loud and melodramatic that it made Tara roll her eyes.

"I don't know what you expect me to do," the blonde defended herself. "I have to have things typed and printed for class sometimes. That means hours spent in the computer lab." She didn't sound thrilled about that fact.

"I know." _It doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. If only there was a solution…_ A memory niggled in the back of Willow's mind. There was something she was supposed to tell Tara, but her mind was foggy and forgetful after the kissing. It took her a moment of backtracking before it struck her. _Oh! Right!_ She slyly turned her voice off-handed and innocent. "You know, _I_ have a computer. You could always use mine."

Tara gave an appreciative smile, but immediately shook her head at the offer.

"It takes me forever to type things. I wouldn't want to monopolize it when you have an assignment."

"Okay, okay…" Willow paused, gathering the moxie to give the real offer. "You know, I have _two _computers."

Tara just canted her head, puzzled.

"Why?"

"They get outdated fast, and my parents like to stay up-to-date. And sometimes it's just a hassle to try to sell them, so I'll just hang onto my old one for backup or spare parts. But I don't use it for anything. It just sits in my closet."

Tara paused, a half-folded pajama shirt in her hand.

"This conversation better not be going where I think it's going," she warned.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't." She was shaking her head even before the offer was made. Willow scowled.

"I took your rock," she countered stubbornly. Tara's brow knitted in blank confusion.

"You what?"

Willow reached for her messenger bag and fished out the Doll's Eye crystal.

"This. Your rock. The Doll's Eye. You gave it to me and I took it."

Tara paused, for a second looking surprised and amused, her eyes flickering between Willow and the crystal.

"You carry it with you?" she asked, silent laughter coloring her voice. Willow found herself blushing.

"Well… yeah. Kind of." She hadn't expected to feel embarrassed, but Tara seemed legitimately charmed by the revelation. The blonde bit her lip for a moment before speaking.

"That's cute," she said finally, as though it was a definitive statement. Willow blushed deeper.

"Well, I haven't been in my dorm room much lately– which isn't a bad thing! I love staying with you," she was quick to add. "I just thought that if I left it there and Buffy found it there she might just think it was a broken paperweight or something, and she might throw it out or try to borrow it and break it or lose it. I wanted to keep it safe." She knew she was leaving out the part where it was her first real gift from Tara and she liked having it with her to remind her of her girlfriend. Tara grinned through her babbling.

"It's still cute," she repeated once Willow had finished.

"That's not the point," Willow grumbled, although she couldn't bring herself to really be grumpy with Tara looking at her like that. "The point is, I felt the same way about taking the crystal."

The blonde winced, and her smile faded to a faint grimace.

"It's different. Computers are expensive. And I'm really bad with them. I would probably break it somehow." Willow could hear a note of shame in her voice, and was quick to speak against it.

"No you wouldn't," she insisted. "Besides, Doll's Eye crystals aren't exactly cheap, and they're a lot harder to come by than old laptops."

Tara didn't relent.

"Willow, I can't."

"Just think of it as a long term loan." The redhead used the same phrasing that Tara had used in offering her the crystal. "It's still technically mine. You'll just be holding onto it for me."

"No, Willow. It just wouldn't be right."

_Okay then. It looks like we're bringing out the big guns._

"It wouldn't?" Willow raised her eyebrows and fingered the crystal with a confused expression. "Then maybe I should give this back to you. Maybe it wouldn't be right for me to keep it."

Willow held it out to her. Tara stepped back, looking wounded at the suggestion, and gave her a pitiful look.

"N-no. I w-want you to keep it." Her voice had shrunk as the tables turned. Willow felt guilty, but hoped that it would be for the best in the end.

"And I want you to use my computer. It's so much faster and better than the school ones, and you won't have to spend hours in the computer lab anymore. Please?" More time away from the computer lab would mean more time with Willow, to spend kissing and talking and playing and generally doing things that were much more fun than waiting for a computer to log in.

Tara sighed and bowed her head, her hair swishing forward to shelter her.

"I'll think about it," she said finally.

"Promise?" Willow asked, eyes narrowed.

"I promise."

Willow left her eyes narrowed, but tried to turn her suspicious gaze into a playful leer.

"I'll make it worth your while." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, provoking an unexpected laugh from her girlfriend. Tara reluctantly smiled, relaxing out of her defensive posture.

"Well, when you put it like that…"


	26. Invitation

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For minor language and occasional mentions of sex. Yes, in this chapter!  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: So here is the first step to my WTWTA story arc. Next chapter should be… more exciting. Also, Buffy hasn't been in the story for awhile, so that needed correcting. Willow needed some friend time.  
>AN2: Thanks to everyone for all the nice comments I've been getting! It's always great to see feedback.

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><p>Chapter 26:<br>Invitation

"Hey, is Tara gunning for my position as your best friend? Because I have seniority. And I bet I could take her in a fight." Buffy gestured with the end of a still-blunt stake. Willow raised her eyebrows in response, tossing her freshly sharpened one into the weapons chest.

"Now _that_ I'd pay to see." She paused, her hand hovering over the knife as the implication of her words sank in. "Not in, like, a sexy way," she clarified hastily. "Sorry, Buff, but you're not my type."

"Aw, shucks. And here I was pining away for you." The Slayer snapped her fingers and smirked cheekily. "Guess I'll have to settle for my beefy hunk of a boyfriend."

Her voice was cheery and upbeat, but Willow noted that her knife was whittling the stake into a toothpick. Uncertainty washed over her. Needless violence was often a sign that Buffy was tense about something. They were sitting side-by-side on Buffy's bed, facing away from the window, and Willow briefly wished the dorm room had better lighting so she could see her friend's face better.

"Have you guys been okay?" she asked hesitantly. "I mean, I know things were pretty 'brr' after the body-swap business." She had assumed that they had resolved things, but with Buffy, it was hard to be sure. She didn't always let on when personal matters were getting to her.

Buffy paused and examined the stake in her hand. It had been trimmed to about the size of a pencil, more like a large splinter than a stake. She rolled her eyes and cast it into the pile of wood shavings on the floor. It zipped through the scattered debris and punctured the newspaper below, sticking in the dense dorm carpet. Willow was just glad she hadn't thrown it hard enough to seriously damage the floor. She wasn't sure how they would explain that to their RA.

"I think so. I mean, I'm still not thrilled about it, but I can't hold it against him forever, right?" Buffy's voice still held that forced optimism, but the last word wavered the slightest bit. Willow shrugged helplessly, wishing she had a better answer.

"I guess I can kind of relate," she said at last. "I mean, the same thing basically happened with me, but the only other person in my body was Drunk Willow, and I'm starting to think I should just be taking notes from her."

Buffy cocked an eyebrow.

"How do you figure?"

"Well, she's the one who found Tara in the first place. And she got farther in one night than Regular Willow has in the whole rest of the relationship." She flinched at the bitterness in her voice and swiftly changed direction. "Not that I'm not happy where we are. Because I am. A lot. And taking things slow is probably for the best. I don't want to pressure her, and she doesn't want to pressure me, but–" Her voice caught in her throat, like it knew she'd already said too much.

"But you spend so much time trying to not pressure each other that you never just get on with it?" Buffy tried to finish for her. Willow let out her held breath in a _whoosh_.

"Basically." She could feel a blush creeping up her neck, but she tried to force it back down. She had never been embarrassed talking about these things when she was with Oz, and it shouldn't have been any different just because Tara was a girl.

_But it is different. A lot is different._ That much she had to admit to herself.

Buffy watched her out of the corner of her eye for a long moment, as though debating whether or not to pursue the issue.

"So… you haven't actually… done anything?" She began in a tentative voice. "Not that I need details, because I really, really don't but–"

Willow cut her off, earning a grateful look from her uncomfortable friend.

"No, not really. I mean, plenty of kissing, which is definitely of the good. But not much past that. And it even took us forever to get to that point."

"So your sleepovers have been… what, platonic?" Buffy's tone was moving from 'tentative' to 'incredulous' in record time.

"More or less." Platonic wasn't quite the right word. It was still romantic. They kissed goodnight and had their arms around each other and Tara usually fell asleep with her head on her shoulder. A few times, they had even woken up tangled up in interesting ways. It wasn't really overtly 'sexual,' though. Not yet.

"And… you're okay with that?" Buffy seemed skeptical.

"… More or less." Willow said again, after a pause for consideration. "I'm trying to have a 'zen' approach to it."

Buffy blinked.

"A who?"

The tension broke a little as Willow laughed.

"_Zen_. It's like what Tara told me about the school computers." She put on her best Tara voice. "'You just have to have a more 'zen' approach to it. It'll log in when it logs in. It'll print when it prints. Glaring at it won't make it go any faster.' I figure the same principles apply to us. It'll happen when it happens. Me worrying about it or trying to force the issue won't help anything."

Buffy nodded along until a thought seemed to enter her head, and she froze, frowning.

"Wait. Didn't you just skip the waiting by giving her a faster computer?" she accused, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"It's just a loan," Willow defended herself without much conviction. "Besides, it's not like there's just some spell or something that could speed things along. It's just something we'll have to figure out. In time."

Willow wasn't particularly thrilled with her own explanation. Patience had never been one of her virtues. The idea of their relationship progressing gradually wasn't without appeal. She just worried that, at their current rate, they would graduate before the 'progress' happened.

"Do you think she's not ready?" Buffy asked dubiously "I mean, it's not like it's even your first time together. Kind of."

"I don't know. I think she's still worried that _I'm_ not ready," Willow guessed. She absently wondered if it was possible to be _too_ concerned about someone else's feelings. "I'm just… It's like we jumped the gun that first night and started at the end, and now we're here at the beginning trying to work our way back, but we're missing all the middle parts. And I don't really know what to do about it."

Buffy picked the knife back up and began working on another stake, less violently this time.

"Have you thought about just getting it over with? Just talking to her about it, or taking the initiative? Maybe you just need to give her the faster computer." She paused mid-stroke, frowning. "Okay, now that sounds like a weird sex act. You know what I mean, right? It's a metaphor."

Willow tried to bite back a smile and answer seriously.

"Yeah, I got it, Buffy." Despite her best attempts, a snicker slipped out. Buffy elbowed her, giving a playful glare. The redhead schooled her features into an apologetic expression until her companion returned to the stake-sharpening. She gave up on her own stake with a sigh and flopped back on the bed. "I don't even know what the next step is, much less how to take it. She still acts weird about things sometimes, and I don't know if it's because of me or her."

She guessed that it was at least partially a once-bitten-twice-shy reaction to the first few weeks of their relationship, when Willow had still been awkward and nervous about everything. But in truth, they were both holding back. As much as Willow wanted to move forward, she only had a vague idea of what that would look like, and she was still nervous about having to tell everyone that she was dating a girl now. It was self-sabotage, half of her always pulling while the other half was trying to push.

"Well, if you _really _want my advice…" came Buffy's voice from in front of her.

"I always want your advice."

"Are you sure? You've been off with your _other_ blonde best friend lately. Maybe you don't need little old Buffy anymore." Willow could tell that she was teasing her, but the idea that it might be something that actually bothered her made her frown.

"That will never be true, and you know it," she said with conviction. She pulled herself back up into an upright position. "So, wise and fabulous Buffy of the Amazing Shoes and Relationship Advice, please, bestow your wisdom on us inferior beings."

Buffy gave her a long, mock-calculating look before heaving a melodramatic sigh.

"Fine. I will." Her voice took on a slightly more serious tone. "Does anyone actually know about you two? Besides me?"

Willow flushed at the question.

"Um… Faith, I think?" she guessed with a winning smile. Buffy raised an eyebrow, and she dropped the act. "No, not really."

"Well, there you go. Easy. Have you thought about just doing the normal relationship-y thing? Like introducing her to your friends?" Buffy picked up another blunted stake and waved it accusingly at Willow.

"You've met her," the redhead tried to defend herself, but she couldn't rally much enthusiasm. She knew that she was treating Tara like some embarrassing secret, which she absolutely didn't deserve.

"Once. For about a minute. While she was terrified. We didn't really get a chance to chat. And I think I'm supposed to threaten her with a shovel or something, in case she ever hurts you."

Willow blanched at the offer.

"Please don't threaten her. She's still kind of jumpy about violent things after the monster attack." It probably wasn't something that Tara wanted to be common knowledge, but she doubted that Buffy would tell anyone. "I had to turn off a movie the other night because it had fighting in it and she kept flinching."

It had been a heartstring-pulling moment. Tara was feeling mostly better after the attack, but the cinematic violence seemed to resurrect some unpleasant memories. The skittishness seemed to surface at odd times, even a week later.

"Alright, alright. I won't scare her. But you should probably let her meet Xander at least. He and Giles still have no idea what's up. They just think you've dropped into a black hole."

"I know. I just… I've been enjoying having this separate thing, you know? All through high school, it was just us fighting monsters and stuff, and I was always just 'Buffy's friend.'" Buffy didn't look offended, but Willow interrupted herself just in case. "Which is fine. I like being Buffy's friend. Obviously." Buffy just nodded for her to go on. "But it's been really nice having something that's just… you know… mine. Something not tied to the Scoobies."

Buffy nodded understandably.

"I get that. It's one of the things I liked about Riley. No demon stuff. He was just a nice guy." She gave a smirk that didn't quite overshadow the disappointed look in her eyes.

"But now…?" Willow prompted. Buffy shrugged.

"He's still a nice guy. Just a nice demon-hunting super-soldier guy." She shook her head, brow furrowed in confusion. "Is there something about me that only draws in secretive monster-killing guys?" She appealed to her friend with a half-serious look.

"Maybe that's part of the whole 'destiny' thing. 'Into every generation a slayer is born, one girl in all the world, etc., etc. Also, she will only date buff, broody guys who are handy with a stake,'" Willow offered. Buffy smirked.

"Maybe." She was quiet for a moment. "It's no big." She seemed to shake off the rainclouds. "But we weren't talking about _my_ relationship issues, we were talking about yours."

Willow recognized the deflection, but let it slide. She would have to keep an eye on the Buffy-Riley situation, but it sounded like the Slayer was done talking about it for the time being. Instead, she returned to thoughts about Tara. _Issues?_

"It's not really 'issues,'" she said after a moment. "I have fun with her. She's really sweet. And she never knew me before, so she actually thinks I'm cool for some reason."

Buffy waved off her self-deprecation.

"You're Willow-cool. It's a different kind of cool. Better than the regular kind. Trust me."

Willow had to smile at that.

"Thanks, Buffy." She sighed. "So you think I should introduce her to Xander?"

"It's up to you." Buffy gave a not-quite-ambivalent shrug. "But, if you wanted to, there might be a party coming up on Friday at Lowell House." Her voice was dripping with fake innocence. "And I might happen to invite both of my best friends. And they might happen to bring other people, and all these people might happen to run into each other during the party."

Willow felt her grin growing as Buffy's 'hypothetical' situation was explained out. It sounded like a plan.

"You know, I don't care what they say, you're one smart cookie, Buffy." She wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulders and gave her a quick hug. "On that note, I should probably go invite my lovely girlfriend."

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Sure, leave me to–" She froze as Willow's sentence processed. "Wait. Who's 'they?' What do they say? Is it Giles?" Willow skipped out of the room, ignoring Buffy's calls. "Willow? _Willow!_"


	27. Wild: Part One

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For occasional mentions of sex. Yes, in this chapter!  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: It's party time! As a precaution, I would like to remind you all to have faith in the happy ending. These crazy kids will be just fine. I like putting them through the wringer, but I also like taking them out and fluffing them back up.  
>AN2: Never attempt to move twice in one month, especially if work or school are also involved. It's not worth the loss in sanity. That being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter (as much as is possible, anyway). I believe our other characters will come into play next chapter.

* * *

><p>Chapter 27:<br>Wild  
>Part One<p>

"So, are you excited?" Willow asked, grasping her girlfriend's fingers and swinging their arms as they walked through the warm night. Tara gave her a tentative grin.

"I think so. You said your friends will be there?"

"Yep. Buffy's boyfriend Riley lives there, so they'll both be around. She said that Xander is coming, but I guess he and Anya– his girlfriend– are fighting or something, so I don't know for sure." She paused with their arms mid-swing. It suddenly occurred to her that if Xander was fighting with Anya, he might take an interest in Tara. _I mean, between Tara or Anya, there's no competition. Tara's not a crazy, inappropriate, thousand year-old, evil-vampire-summoning ex-demon._ She whipped around, giving Tara a serious look. "Don't let him make a move on you."

Tara laughed as though she had made a joke. Willow deflated slightly, releasing her hand.

"I'm serious," she grumbled, swiveling to face her with the full force of her pout. Tara just shook her head and reclaimed the redhead's arm, still chuckling.

"I don't think that'll be a problem."

"Why not?"

Tara shrugged a little and tugged her loose, forest green shirt a little lower.

"I don't know. It just doesn't really happen. Ever." Willow tried to interrupt, but Tara moved on before she could get an argument in. "Are we introducing me as your friend?"

Willow sighed in lieu of answering. She had asked herself the same question a lot the past few days, and still wasn't entirely sure. Half of her was sure everything would go fine, but half of her just didn't want anyone to look at her like she had done something weird or wrong.

"I think so. At first, at least. If Xander's grumpy, I'll probably wait to break the whole 'girlfriend' thing. But if he's in a good mood, I might tell him. Or if he hits on you. If he hits on you, I'll have to defend you honor." Her eyes narrowed, practicing giving him a suspicious glare. "That would make him back off." A stray thought had her reconsidering, as she suddenly imagined him drooling over the idea of two girls together. A shudder rippled down her back. "Unless it just makes things worse."

Before her mind could spiral farther out of control, Tara tugged on her arm, pulling her back to reality.

"Hey, come back. No need to go all the way down the rabbit hole. He's not going to hit on me," she reassured, squeezing Willow's arm through the sleeve of her bright red jacket.

"Why not?" _Is there an echo out here?_

"Guys don't. No one does. It's just not something that happens." She seemed to say it very matter-of-factly, but Willow thought she saw a tinge of color in her ears, even in the dark. Before she could comment, Tara continued on. "So you don't think Anya will be here?"

Willow blinked, reorienting herself.

"I hadn't really thought about it. I guess she might still come. I really don't know." Her head tilted to the left in thought, but she couldn't bring herself to dedicate much brainpower to the ex-demon's whereabouts. "You should meet Xander first anyway. Anya's…" She searched for a neutral word, then decided it didn't matter. If Anya could be rudely blunt, so could she. "Annoying. Frustrating. Lacking a moral compass and any social skills to speak of."

"You really don't like her." Tara noted, eyebrows raised slightly. They were approaching Lowell House now, the light, noise, and heat from the party radiating out in waves.

"She once summoned an evil leather-corset-wearing vampire me from an alternate dimension. It made an impression," she explained.

"Leather?" Tara asked, blue eyes darkening and slipping out of focus as though trying to picture it. Willow thought she felt the grip on her arm tighten.

"Yeah. Vampire Me was kinda slutty. And kinda gay." She paused as the implications of this occurred to her. "I probably should have given that more thought at the time." She shook off the thought. "Well, here we are! Frat house and secret government agency headquarters: Lowell House."

The large brick building stood before them, a yawning archway inviting them inside. Lights flared in the windows, and music and voices clashed into an unintelligible roar.

"Sounds like mostly frat house tonight." Tara pointed out, hesitating as they approached. "And it's, uh… bigger… than I thought. And… you know… m-more people."

"Yeah, I think we're late. They must have started awhile ago." Willow had to raise her voice to be heard over the blaring music. "Do you still want to go in?"

The blonde hesitated, biting her lip. For a second, Willow thought she might turn them around and head back to the safety of the dorm, but at the last second, she seemed to steel herself.

"Yeah. I want to meet your friends," she said with a resolute nod and a crooked smile. Willow rewarded her bravery with a swift, chaste kiss.

"Okay. Let's go, then." She grabbed Tara's hand again and pulled her forward, across the brick threshold. Inside, it was less claustrophobic than she had expected, but the air was charged with electricity that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and her lips buzz where they had just touched Tara's. She imagined it must be a side-effect of the massive underground facility underneath them.

Students crowded the interior of the house, chatting or dancing. She noticed Tara glancing around with curiosity, but also a sort of detachment, like a visitor at a museum or zoo. Willow tugged her further into the room, scanning around for Buffy.

"Do you see anyone?" Tara asked. Willow barely heard her softspoken voice over the music and chatter in the front room. She shook her head and gestured for them move into another, hopefully quieter part of the house. In the next room, the music wasn't quite as blaring, and the lights were notably dimmer. Co-eds sat on the floor in a circle, apparently playing some party game with an empty bottle. Her friends were not among them.

"I thought Buffy would be here, at least," Willow murmured. "She said she wanted to meet you again."

"Maybe she's up in her boyfriend's room," Tara said with an accommodating shrug. She watched the game with the same somewhat detached interest as before.

"Maybe." Willow frowned. It still felt weird. "Maybe patrol ran late. I'm sure she'll show up. She really did want to talk with you."

Noticing her insistent, borderline frantic tone, Tara gave her a crooked smile.

"You don't have to convince me, you know. I believe you."

"Good." Willow looked around again. "I don't see Xander either."

"Maybe he's in another room. Or just not here yet."

"Yeah, maybe. I guess we'll probably run into them later." She had expected everyone to be there already, waiting for them. She could feel herself starting to get annoyed, but she couldn't quite manage it. It was hard to focus, and the faces in the crowd were starting to blend together. "There's a lot more people here than I expected."

She tugged at her collar, feeling like the air was too hot and heavy to breathe properly. Beads of sweat slowly coursed down her back, tickling her. The electricity had her feeling restless, too. One of her hands fidgeted with Tara's, absently rubbing each finger with the pad of her thumb. Tara didn't protest or ask for her hand back, so she continued as they walked around, looking for a place to settle and wait for her friends.

They grabbed some cups of punch from one room and eventually took a seat side-by-side on the stairs, knees touching. As they sat down, someone changed the CD to something quieter, and they both sighed in relief as the ambient noise became a little less grating.

Willow took a long drink from her cup, hoping the liquid would cool her down. She felt like she was running a fever, and her skin felt hyper-sensitive. Every time she brushed against Tara, she felt goosebumps break out. Where their legs touched, a warm tingling sensation prevailed, like blood rushing back into a sleeping limb.

They were both quiet for several minutes, something about the atmosphere in the house making the air between them strange and tense. As they sat together, Willow had felt more than saw Tara's eyes, boring into her, then quickly looking away as though she had caught herself in the act.

She couldn't help looking at Tara. She had her head bowed slightly, lifting it only to take long sips from the cool drink. Willow watched her throat constrict with each sip, appreciating the classically beautiful, graceful curve of her neck.

"So, this isn't so bad, right?" the redhead asked, elbowing her girlfriend gently. Now that the music was lower and they were separated from the crowd, the party seemed much more intimate.

"It's okay," Tara agreed.

"Not too crowded?"

Tara glanced around at their partially secluded spot and smiled.

"Not here."

"Good. I don't want you to be uncomfortable." Willow's hand, as though it had a mind of its own, reached out for Tara's leg and began investigating the fabric of her pants.

"I'm not. I'm fine. Very comfortable. Promise." She could feel Tara's eyes watching her hand. The gaze burned, further increasing her temperature. She wondered if she could take off her shirt. She compromised by shrugging out of her jacket, which suddenly felt heavy and oppressive. "So, any last piece of advice about Xander and Buffy? Or Riley and Anya?"

Willow had almost forgotten about the others, and that she was supposed to be keeping an eye out for them. Tara's leg was really warm under her hand. She thought she could even feel her pulse, quick and hot, rushing under her skin. She tried to focus, draining the last of her punch in one large gulp. Tara had apparently already finished hers, the discarded cup sitting on the step below.

"Uh, not really. They should be nice and everything. Except Anya, but she's more rude than mean. Other than that…" Something about the electric buzz in the air, combined with the smell of Tara's hair, made it impossible to focus. She swallowed, wondering if she should get more punch.

"And don't get hit on by Xander," Tara joked, as though the idea were ludicrous. Willow knew she had been the one to bring it up in the first place, but now, the thought of Xander going after Tara made her see red and taste metal. She decided firmly that if he tried, she really _would_ beat him to death with a shovel.

"He better not dare." Her voice came out lower than she expected, almost a growl. Tara was watching her face intently, and one of the blonde's hands found its way to her arm, squeezing reassuringly.

"Don't worry, he won't." The grip on her arm eased after a moment, and she felt Tara's fingers caressing her forearm through the red fabric of her sleeve. She suddenly wished she had worn a sleeveless shirt. "I promise, if he does, I'll turn him down gently."

Willow shook her head again, jealousy still gnawing a hole in her stomach. Her hand closed possessively on Tara's knee.

"Not too gently. He's persistent. You should have seen how long he chased after Buffy."

"I'm not Buffy."

It wasn't until she felt Tara's hand slide up her arm to knead the base of her neck that she realized how tense she had gotten. The friction of Tara's skin on hers brought a jarring flush of pleasure somewhere deep below her stomach. She let her head sag forward and groaned softly, unable to quell the response. Forgetting everything else in the world, she luxuriated in the firm, rhythmic pressure of Tara's fingers. Her skin tingled until it was almost a vibration.

She was half-pulled from the reverie by a small gasp next to her. Her eyes crept open and hazily tried to focus on the stunning beauty in front of them. Tara's face was flushed, covered with a light sheen of sweat. Her glazed eyes glowed dark blue and crackled with electricity, like a storm on the sea, and they focused on Willow with scalding intensity. It only took a second to realize why– Willow's hand had slipped from her knee up to her inner thigh, where it now rested on the burning skin.

From there, it was impossible to tell who started the kiss. It didn't seem important at the time. The important thing was closeness. All Willow knew was that they had to be closer. As close as possible. She almost dissolved as their lips met again and again, tongues touching and tracing, never quite stopping for breath. The sensation turned her head into a useless fogbank, and the all-too-insistent ache grew deep inside her, demanding more. She knew one of her hands was tangled in Tara's hair, which was odd, since it had been tied up in pigtails a second ago. She wasn't quite sure where her other hand was. It was hard to focus on any one thing when all she could feel was the insistent thrum of need.

She had just pushed Tara flush against the smooth, cool surface of the wall when something went wrong. The molten heat that had driven her to that point was dowsed suddenly, as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her. It was enough to startle her into breaking the kiss. As she pulled back, somewhat befuddled, she saw Tara's expression changing as well, from desire to confusion to horror to self-loathing.

"No… We can't. We shouldn't have. I-it's wrong." Her face was losing color fast, melting from luminous pink into a sickly pale color, and her voice shook and stumbled over itself. Her hand raised to cover her kiss-swollen lips.

"Tara…" Willow moved to cup her face, hoping to comfort her, whatever was happening, but she recoiled at the touch.

"No! Stop that! Get- get away!" The blonde lurched to her feet, knees half-buckling, and fled up the stairs, leaving Willow stunned and lost and alone.


	28. Wild: Part Two

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. (Strong T for this chapter) For mentions of sex. Yes, in this chapter! Very much in this chapter!  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: Okay, so I'm actually dividing what I wrote up into two chapters, because I don't like the idea of a 5000+ word chapter, but there's more I want to do with this episode. SO, here's Part 2 of "Wild." Part 3 is written (and might end up with a different name, so I'll edit it and post it up within the week. I recently figured out exactly where I want this fic to go from here, which should mean good things for the update schedule.  
>AN2: I'm not really used to writing "sexy" stuff, so this is my probably weak attempt at it. It's intentionally quite a bit over the top because of the effects of the house clouding Willow's mind. I guess I just wanted to clarify that beforehand. If you have advice or criticism on the subject, feel free to offer it.  
>AN3: I also posted a Halloween fic today called "Extra Flamey," so if you're looking for something festive to read in the meantime, you can have a peek at that.

* * *

><p>Chapter 28:<br>Wild  
>Part Two<p>

Willow sat, paralyzed, on the steps for several seconds, eyes glued to the spot at the top of the stairs where Tara had disappeared from view.

_What the frilly heck just happened?_ Her hand drifted up to gently touch her burning lips. She felt weird– cold and sick and embarrassed. She had no idea why she had just pinned Tara against the wall in front of the whole frat house, and she had less than no idea why Tara had run off in such a panic. She stood on shaky legs, unable to decide whether to go looking for Tara to find out what was wrong or to give her the space to calm down.

Luckily, her decision was delayed by the sight of a familiar, albeit grumpy face making its way through the crowd, brushing past co-eds like he didn't see them. The party had apparently gained revelers, and the ground floor was now crowded with people drinking and laughing and dancing and kissing. Willow hopped down the last few steps, trying to shake off the cold feeling that clung to her like wet clothing.

"Xander!" She gave a slight wave. He barely looked up from his sullen glaring at the floor.

"Oh. Hey, Will." Her oldest friend huffed over, running a hand through his short black hair, making it stick up. Willow closed the rest of the distance, still absently chafing her arms to warm them.

"Hey. You're late. I thought you weren't coming." She could guess by the look on his face and the empty space at her side, but she asked regardless. "Is Anya going to be here?" She impulsively looked back to the top of the stairs, hoping to see a sheepish Tara descending. No such luck. "For some reason, Tara kept asking."

Xander scowled at the mention of his girlfriend.

"No, apparently she has better things to… Wait, who was asking?" he cut himself off, his annoyance interrupted by mild curiosity. Willow abruptly realized that she had mentioned Tara by name. She suppressed a flinch and waved her arms dismissively.

"Uh, no one. My friend. I'll– You'll meet her later," she stammered. _Hopefully. If I can find her again. If nothing serious is wrong._ "Hey, Xand, I have a quick, entirely hypothetical question for you."

Xander shrugged, perking up a little.

"Shoot," he offered.

"If a girl kisses you, or you kiss her, and she runs off right afterwards, do you go after her?" Willow's gaze wandered again to the spot where Tara had vanished. Xander scratched his head and narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Is this some kind of trick question? Is Buffy going to slay me if I say the wrong thing?" he asked warily, looking around the crowded room to spot the missing Slayer. Willow frowned.

"What? No. Really, what do you do?"

"Depends. Was she kissing me back?"

Willow paused, vividly remembering the way Tara's hands had roamed as their lips had crashed together just minutes ago. She felt her heartbeat pick up, and had to jerk herself out of the memory before Xander noticed her flushed expression.

"Most definitely," she answered shortly, with a quick nod for good measure.

Xander thought for a few seconds, then shrugged.

"Then, yeah, I would go after her and find out what happened." He still looked curious about the strange direction the conversation was taking, but, to his credit, he didn't ask about it.

"That's what I thought." She looked back towards the stairs, and her face hardened with resolve. "Thanks, Xand! Gotta go!"

She turned around before she could change her mind and began the climb to the second story. Xander shook his head cluelessly at her and headed towards the party game room.

"Fine. Go on, then. Xander's fine all by his lonesome. Yes siree. He's a lone wolf on the prowl…" His voice faded from her hearing as she ascended the carpeted stairs with determination.

She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something weird was going on tonight. Tara was acting weird, she felt weird, and the people downstairs even seemed to be acting weird. But she refused to let the weirdness ruin her night with Tara. She would fix this.

It was much quieter upstairs, aside from the muffled music and chatter from downstairs and some faint creaking noises coming from the first door on the landing. Willow recognized the door from her trip in the nether realm: Riley's room. With a frown, the redhead walked past. _I guess Tara was right. Buffy's just with Riley. Weird, I thought she wanted to meet Tara again._

She continued down the hall quickly, eager to not overhear anything from that particular room. The weird electric feeling was actually worse on this floor, and Willow fidgeted restlessly as she searched for her wayward girlfriend. Behind one door, she heard running water, and she hesitantly knocked.

"Tara?" she called. For a few seconds, there was no response, and she almost moved on when a soft voice responded.

"Here." Tara's voice was barely audible over the sound of the faucet and through the door. Willow's hand crept down to the handle and she let the door creak open at its own speed. Tara stood at the sink, a dark green washcloth in her hand. She pressed it to her forehead, then to her neck, as though trying to cool herself off. Willow took a halting step into the bathroom.

"Are you okay?" Her concern rose as the dominant emotion, but only barely. The sight of Tara, lips parted slightly, face suffused with heat, skin slick with moisture, water dripping from the fine hairs that framed her face… Willow gulped.

Tara look up at her with hooded eyes.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. Her voice was low, almost husky. "I don't know why I said those things. I d-didn't mean them. I just…"

"It's okay," Willow murmured. She took another step forward and closed the door behind them. The lock clicked into place. "I guess I'm feeling kind of weird tonight, too. It's like there's something in the air…" Her eyes swept over Tara's form, pausing at her chest, which expanded and contracted with each ragged breath. Her skin was tingling again, her blood pounding so hard she could feel it in her fingertips. She took a final step to close the distance between them, raising her eyes to Tara's face once again. The blue of her eyes was dark and intense, partly hidden by the black of her dilated pupils.

Her hand sought Tara's, finding it clenched around the edge of the counter with white knuckles. She carefully peeled it off and raised it to her lips, pressing them gently to her palm. Pleasure rushed through her at the contact. The blonde shuddered, and suddenly she was pulling Willow's shoulder until they faced each other. Before she could react, Tara's lips claimed her own, and the fireworks started again. A moan that was almost a growl came from her throat, and her hands once again found themselves in new and exciting places. One snaked up the back of Tara's shirt, tracing the curve of her spine. The other tangled itself in the wispy hair at the nape of her neck, urging her back for kiss after kiss. Tara's hands were even bolder, sliding from her hips up her stomach, branding trails of fire into her skin.

They pulled apart for breath only for a second, both gasping, and Tara's hands swept momentarily lower, lifting Willow up onto the counter. Willow felt the blonde step forward between her splayed legs and her lips whisper against the sensitive skin of her neck, and was suddenly glad for the new position. If she were still standing, she was certain her legs would have buckled. Tara traced her way up her neck and along her jaw, her body pressing forward against Willow's. The sensation built within her like a crescendo, and her legs wrapped themselves around Tara's hips. Her breath came in shuddering gasps, and visions flashed behind her eyes. She could see Tara's naked body, tangled with her own in a nest of bedsheets. She could feel her own lips kissing their way up Tara's stomach, then between her breasts. She could hear them both gasping in the darkness. She could see Tara arching off the mattress in a moment of rapture.

Her front went cold again and the visions stopped as Tara drew back, breathing heavily. Her hands locked on Willow's shoulders and held her at arm's length. The redhead snapped back to reality in time to realize that both of them were half out of their shirts.

"What?" Willow's voice rasped. "What is it?"

Tara just held her in place as she caught her breath. Willow's skin itched for her touch, but she waited for her girlfriend to respond.

"I'm okay," Tara gasped after several protracted moments. "I just… we can't."

Willow almost rolled her eyes. _Not this game again. Not now. Not like this._

"We _can_," Willow insisted, her voice emphatic. "Really. Whatever happened, I'm over it." She laid her hands on Tara's restraining arms. "I want you. We're adults. We can't keep letting that one night stop us."

Tara just shook her head.

"It's not that."

"Then _what_?" Willow almost yelled. She had never wanted anything like she wanted Tara at that moment, and it felt like she would burn up if they didn't return to their previous activities as soon as possible. Tara just gave her a slightly embarrassed, slightly pleading look.

"Just… look at where we are," she murmured, casting her gaze around them. "We're in a frat house bathroom."

Willow forced herself to consider the situation, and some of the fire in her belly twisted itself into smoke.

"Oh." Hard as it was to focus, she did have to admit that after all they had been through, a frantic hookup in a frat house bathroom was not the 'next step' she had been hoping for in their relationship.

"That's not really where I want to have our… second first time. You know?" She could see Tara fighting herself, could feel the way her hands clenched at her shoulders, arms locked like they were the last bastions of rational thought in her body, and without them, she would plunge forward again. Willow tried to suck in a stabilizing breath, but the air was too hot and humid. It was like being inside a stormcloud

"Yes. But…" She shuddered, wishing she had Tara's self-control. Or wishing that Tara had her own lack of self-control. "God, I _really_ want to."

Tara gave what sounded like a breathy laugh.

"Me, too. But we deserve better. Right?" Her voice suggested that she actually needed an answer. Giving it was the absolute last thing Willow wanted to do, but the small bit of logic still whispering in the back of her head told her she had to. She had said it herself: something was _weird_ tonight. They were both acting weird. And above all, she didn't want her first remembered time with Tara to be in a Lowell House's communal bathroom. Even though it would be nice to just give into the passion, and after all they were both adults, and they both wanted it, and there was a nice shower conveniently located just a few feet…

She shook herself.

"Right." _Maybe an icy cold shower would be a safer idea._ She raised an eyebrow at her struggling girlfriend. "Want to go home?"

If they went back to Tara's room, then they could do things properly. No frat house, no party. _No best friend having sex about thirty feet behind us._ At that reminder, the last of her desperation sizzled down to a manageable level. _It's fine. We can just go home. We can last that long. _She peered into Tara's eyes and almost shivered._ Probably._

"Yeah," Tara agreed. She took a deep breath and released Willow's shoulders from her iron grip, taking a shaky step back. "Home. Th-that would be… better." The last word was barely a whisper.

"Let's hurry, though," Willow suggested. Tara nodded fervently and took the few steps necessary to open the bathroom door. Willow slid down from the counter, holding onto it until she was sure her legs would support her. That done, she took Tara's proffered hand and they began their trek downstairs, Willow using every ounce of her self-control to not push Tara back against the wall to continue their earlier activities.

They almost made it out. Unfortunately, as they moved towards the front door, someone shoved past them and they fell back against the wall. And from there, no amount of self-control mattered. Tara's back flattened against the wall, and Willow braced herself on the same spot. Their plans of going home were temporarily– but entirely– forgotten.

They might have stayed there all night were they not interrupted.

"_Will_?!" yelped a male voice by Willow's ear. She easily ignored it– there were far more important things to focus on, like Tara's thigh pressing between her legs. The hand Willow used to brace against the wall trembled as overwhelming feelings continued to pound through her.

"_Will_!" came the voice again, more insistent this time. She separated barely long enough to take a breath.

"I'm kind of busy, Xander," she growled, before returning her full attention to the worthy subject of Tara's mouth.

"Yeah, I noticed. And on that subject: _WHAT_?!"

Willow rolled her eyes behind her eyelids. She didn't have time for this. She pulled away, placing a hand against Tara's sternum to keep her at bay. The sight of the blonde, lips swollen and bruised, hair messy, eyes dark, almost made her surge forward again. But, somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered that she had planned to introduce these two.

"Xander, Tara. Tara, Xander. My girlfriend, my brother," she explained, wasting no breath. Tara's eyes flicked towards him with only a cursory glance.

"Hey." Her voice was deep and throaty and entirely uninterested in anyone interrupting them. As Xander's mouth hung open, Willow decided that the introduction was complete. She dipped her head forward and pressed her lips against Tara's again. A dizzying sensation, almost like relief, flooded through her as they reconnected.

But the interruption reminded her of something. Something important that they had been doing. Somewhere they had been going… _Oh!_

Willow's eyes flew open wide and she forced her head back again, panting for breath. Xander was long gone, which suggested that they had lost track of time again.

"Wait," she told Tara. "We were leaving."

"We can stay," Tara pointed out, sweat beading on her forehead. Willow paused. It did seem like a sound argument.

"Yeah…" she was puzzled. Why had they wanted to leave? "No, it was important, wasn't it? We wanted to leave."

Tara frowned, apparently trying to gather her wayward thoughts. It looked like an uphill struggle.

"Yeah. I remember. Frat house bad. Our room good," the blonde murmured, looking around. There were people all around them, mostly interested in their own business. Many of them were in similar states of passion. Tara peeled herself off the wall, and her expression cleared. Willow's hand dislodged from the same wall, and suddenly leaving and going back to Tara's room sounded like an excellent idea. The activities she wanted to do were better done behind closed doors.

"Okay, then. Let's go." She turned and located the door. "Now-ish would be good."

The two girls headed for the door almost at a run, and then they were tumbling out into the dark night.


	29. Wet

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For occasional mentions of sex. Yes, in this chapter! Very much in this chapter!  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: I was kind of torn about how far I thought they should go at the end of this chapter. I did a lot of rewriting, deleting, and combining before I got to where it is now, which I'm somewhat satisfied with, although it is a little ambiguous. I may have mentioned before that I'm really no good at writing sexy scenes, and that probably is a factor in how slowly I'm letting their relationship progress. I also just kind of like writing slower relationships. Anyway, here's the chapter for your viewing pleasure.

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><p>Chapter 29:<br>Wet

Willow sucked in the cool night air, wiping dampness from her face that she assumed was sweat before realizing that a light drizzle was falling on them. _Well, I did say we needed a cold shower, I guess._ She felt weak and shaky, and paused for a few minutes to catch her breath, the rain slowly soaking into her clothes. Away from the heat and electricity, the memory of what they had just done sank in along with the rainwater, and Willow felt embarrassed by her actions. Finally, she returned her attention to Tara, who was in a similar state of recovery. Her hair and clothing were both a mess, and Willow was sure that hers were no better.

"Are you alright?" she asked. The blonde nodded shakily.

"I think so."

Willow offered her hand, and Tara wrapped it in her own. The electricity in the contact had reduced down to its normal level of tingly. She still wanted to kiss Tara, but not enough to mount her against a wall in a room full of other people. Just the regular amount.

Together, they began walking back towards Kresge Hall, treading slowly in spite of the falling rain. The silence between them was, for once, uncomfortable. Tara watched the ground, cheeks flushed. Willow kept trying to catch her eye, but she didn't know what to say. She kept thinking about what had just happened, and she couldn't justify her actions in her head. _ Not that kissing and touching Tara are bad things. Of course not. They're amazing and wonderful and incredible things. But that was hardly the time and the place for them. It was like I just couldn't stop myself…_

"I'm sorry," Tara's voice murmured from beside her, breaking the silence and interrupting her troubled thoughts. Willow looked up, eyebrows raised.

"What?" she asked, her voice punctuated with an air of incredulity. _What does _Tara_ have to apologize for?_

"I… I don't know why I acted like that. Or said some of those things. I'm sorry."

"Tara, no. It wasn't you. Or, it wasn't _just _you. I started it." She felt heat rise in her face, but now it was out of embarrassment, not desire. "I don't know what happened. It was like I couldn't stop. Like I was going to burn up."

"I know. Me, too," Tara said. Her eyes flitted up to Willow's face for a quick glance, but soon returned to the ground. "Um… you don't think it was some… Hellmouth thing?"

Willow mulled the idea over for several seconds.

"Like what? Some kind of lust demon?"

"Maybe." Tara blushed, watching the ground again. "I mean, there could have been a succubus there or something, right?"

Willow scratched her head, trying to think of her demon lore.

"I guess. I mean, anything's possible in good old Sunnydale. Or…" She shoved her free hand in her pocket and sighed, hating the other possibility. "Or maybe the punch was spiked."

Tara's foot paused mid-step, and Willow was pulled to a split-second halt before they continued through the wet grass.

"I don't think so…" Tara hedged, frowning. She didn't seem to like the idea any more than Willow did.

"There is some precedence with us and alcohol," the redhead reluctantly pointed out. Tara shook her head slowly.

"Maybe, but I feel fine now. And that w-wasn't how we acted when… well… that first night."

There was a heavy silence as they trudged side-by-side through the grass. Tara's head was still slightly bowed, and Willow wished she could do something to make her girlfriend feel better. Usually, she would kiss her, but that seemed like the exact wrong thing to do in this situation. It was a long minute before Tara broke the silence.

"The air there didn't feel right. Did you feel it?"

Willow nodded with a half-shrug.

"Yeah. But I think it was just the Initiative stuff."

Tara shook her head.

"I don't think so. I think there was something there. Not technology. Magic."

"Like a spell?" Willow was curious. It _had_ felt pretty weird, but she hadn't identified it as _magic_ weird. Then again, Tara saw auras and stuff, so she would know better. The blonde just shrugged.

"Maybe. I don't know for sure. It just… didn't feel right," she repeated, still frowning.

"I guess if there's something wrong, I'll hear from Buffy and Xander tomorrow." Willow suddenly stopped in her tracks. "Oh no. Xander."

Tara winced sympathetically.

"Yeah, that wasn't really how I had planned on meeting him," she admitted.

"He's probably going bonkers right now." Willow buried her face in her hands. _That wasn't how that was supposed to go __at all__._

Tara wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her gently, and she was able to breathe again.

"I'm sure he's fine. Just surprised. We can talk to him tomorrow," Tara murmured soothingly.

Willow almost suggested that they turn around and go back, but the the thought of reentering the house made her feel edgy and nervous. If there _was_ some kind of spell or demon in the house, she didn't trust herself to be able to resist it. It was only luck that they had managed to escape in the first place.

"Okay," she acquiesced, leaning into Tara's embrace. Just having her girlfriend's warmth at her side was incredibly calming, although her body still thrummed at the contact, as though it remembered how far they had almost gotten. When the dorm building came into view, they both visibly relaxed.

"Home sweet home," quipped Willow, her head resting partly on Tara's shoulder. The blonde responded with a shy smile.

"You called it that before. 'Home,'" she pointed out. Willow realized that she was right.

"Yeah. I guess I did." She smiled. It was definitely more home-like than her parent's house, or her dorm room at Stevenson. "I guess I just feel safe there."

Tara leaned her head against Willow's affectionately.

"I'm glad," she whispered into her ear. Willow sighed, finally letting the night's embarrassment fall from her shoulders. She snaked an arm around Tara's back.

"You called it 'our room,' you know," she countered. Tara blinked at her with wide eyes.

"I did?" Her voice suggested that she had hoped Willow hadn't noticed.

"Yep."

"Well… it can be 'our room,' if you want. I-if it's okay with you," Tara said, with muted hope in her voice. Willow smiled reassuringly.

"It's more than okay." She liked the idea of it being _their_ room, not just _her_ room. She was a big fan of the plurals.

They slipped through the heavy double doors leading into Kresge and ascended the stairs _home_ to _their _room. The thought of the new terminology was almost enough to bring a goofy grin to Willow's face, if not for the night's worries still gnawing at her. She thought she saw a corresponding phantom smile on Tara's face as they entered the room, but she turned her head to flip the light switch before she could be sure.

Willow crossed the room and sat heavily on the bed. She felt cold and exhausted and still kind of embarrassed. She had planned on dragging Tara home like a caveman and jumping her bones, but outside of the electric heat of Lowell House, she balked. Physically, she was still craving the contact, and she knew that trying to lie chastely beside Tara that night would be a special kind of torture. Emotionally, though, she was unsure. It had been such a _weird_ night, and it was definitely going to be a weird day tomorrow. Maybe tonight just wasn't the night.

Tara padded across the room and settled near her on the bed, cross-legged, cool water dripping from her tangled hair onto the quilt. She looked a mess, but Willow still thought she was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She just wished the night had gone more smoothly.

"Are you alright?" Tara asked quietly, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of red behind Willow's ear.

"I think so. Just kind of embarrassed." Willow shook her head, feeling the blush warm her cheeks. A gentle pressure covered her hand.

"Your hands are freezing," Tara murmured. Willow smirked. The hand covering her own was warmer, but just barely.

"Yours aren't much better."

Tara started to withdraw her hand, but Willow gently caught it in her own. She brought her free hand over and began rubbing Tara's fingers between her own to ease some of the chill from them.

"W-we should probably get into dry clothes. Maybe take a shower to warm up?" Tara's voice was oddly cautious. Willow gave her fingers an extra squeeze.

"Yeah. I guess so." She finally raised her eyes to Tara's. Their blue fire seared her and banished the cold more effectively than any shower ever could. She gulped. "Did you… D-Did you want to go first?" She heard herself unconsciously pick up her girlfriend's nervous stutter.

"Actually…" Tara paused, eyes still glowing dark blue. "I thought maybe… if you wanted… we could _both_…"

Willow stared at her for several long moments before she caught on to what she was suggesting. At he realization, her brain flew into emergency code-red overdrive, trying to think up some sort of smooth, seductive way to accept the offer.

"Showering together conserves water," she announced, wide-eyed, in a voice well over twice as loud and high-pitched as it needed to be. Tara blinked at her wordlessly for a long moment. As soon as the sound of her own voice registered in her head, Willow immediately doubled over, burying her face in her hands and groaning. Belatedly, she heard Tara burst into a fit of hysterics, which she didn't seem in any rush to stop. Another moan escaped Willow's lips. "I have the game of a middle-schooler," she mumbled dejectedly. She raised her head to look at her still-giggling girlfriend, who had collapsed back onto the bed and was now watching her with dancing eyes. "So, I'm guessing that offer is rescinded now?" the redhead asked wryly.

"Will…" Tara grinned indulgently at her, still stifling a few lingering giggles. "If your particular brand of quirky was some kind of turn-off for me, I don't think we would have gotten through our first night, let alone this far into a relationship."

Willow felt herself blush all the way to the roots of her hair, but the sentiment was somehow comforting.

"Well, I'm glad." She managed a smile herself, enjoying the way Tara's eyes crinkled when she laughed. "So then, about that hot shower you mentioned…"

Tara rose gracefully from the bed, offering Willow her hand.

"Come on, Casanova."

—

Willow had seen Tara naked before, but her heart still pounded as the soaked forest green shirt slipped from her shoulders, revealing the final expanse of smooth, bare skin. The sound of running water covered the sound of her ragged breathing, but she could still feel _want_ on every inch of her skin. She wanted to feel her skin on Tara's skin, her lips on Tara's lips. And, if possible, her lips on Tara's skin and Tara's lips on her own skin. She shivered even as the steam poured over them from the shower stall.

"Ready?" Tara whispered. Willow nodded, starting to shrug out of her own clothes. She felt Tara's hands assist her in the process, which only made the feeling of _want_ increase exponentially. Finally, the last article was divested, and Tara stepped into the shower stall, pulling Willow in with her.

Standing inches apart under the steaming water, Willow was almost overcome with the flood of emotions. She and Tara were naked in the same room for the first time since their first morning together. The morning when things almost went irrevocably wrong. The morning when Willow fled Tara's room wearing Tara's shirt, running away from the idea that she could have loved a girl.

_Oh, how things change._

Her hands reached out and grazed Tara's sides reverently, tracing down from her breasts to her hips. The sensation of her girlfriend's warm skin under her fingers– skin that was usually covered by needlessly heavy clothing– struck her all the way to her core. In response, she felt Tara's fingertips press into her back, drawing her closer. Their lips met without thought, and when their bodies pressed together, Willow could no longer tell who had closed the distance.

After a long minute of kissing in their cocoon of water and steam, Tara pulled back slightly and moved to speak softly into Willow's ear.

"I don't think we're actually going to conserve any water," she whispered conspiratorially. Willow maintained her composure for about three seconds before she let herself laugh. After the imperious force of passion that had gripped them in Lowell House, they both needed a little lightness. Still chuckling, she leaned her forehead against Tara's. The normally clear blue eyes were dark with desire, but still sparkling happily, like a polished sapphire, or the surface of a lake at night. Willow smiled up into them, her own sense of _want_ sparked as much by the smiling eyes as by the supple skin under her fingers.

"Hey," she greeted as their eyes connected and warmth flooded her stomach.

"Hey yourself," Tara greeted back. Her voice was low in a way that made Willow shiver. Willow brought their lips back together, trying to memorize the feeling.

Their touches were first tentative, but gained confidence with each success. Willow marveled at the way her heart leaped each time Tara's lips found her throat, and she relished the soft gasps Tara gave each time her hands found her breasts. Willow knew that if they had stayed at Lowell House, things would have progressed swiftly into a night of wild, unbridled passion. Pure physical lust. Wildfire. Not unpleasant, but maybe a little unwelcome given the time and place. Now, her desire felt more like _hers_. It was a slow burn, and a _controlled_ burn. This wouldn't be the night they lost control in a frat house bathroom, but it would be the night they truly eased into this new facet of knowing each other. Tonight would be a night of exploration, not conquest. There would be time for unbridled passion later. Tonight, Willow just wanted to kiss her girl until the rest of the world fell away– vampires, demons, Initiatives, Xander's confusion, Buffy's absenteeism– and just left the two of them alone together in each other's arms.


	30. Home Sweet Home

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For occasional mentions of sex. Only alluded to in this chapter.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: I interrupt your Black Friday traditions (or lack thereof) to wish you a happy Thanksgiving and bring you a fresh update! It's another kind of filler-y chapter, but the next one (or few) should be a lot of fun. This Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for everyone who reads this fic, and in particular those who take the time to review or favorite it. It's gotten to the point where writing it is fun again. So I hope you're all enjoying it as well.

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><p>Chapter 30:<br>Home Sweet Home

"I'll have to bring more clothes over," Willow commented without moving from the pillow. It was a warm morning, with sunlight already straining against the window curtains, but Tara's form curled against her side held her in place like an anchor.

"Hmm?" The blonde snuggled closer, tucking her head into the crook of Willow's neck. Unlike Willow, she was lingering in the not-quite-awake part of the morning.

"If I keep staying here, if it's 'our' room, I'll have to bring more of my clothes from Stevenson," the redhead explained. Since waking up, she had been thinking about the logistics of moving into Tara's room on a more permanent basis. It was pleasant planning.

"Mm-hm," Tara agreed without listening. Willow frowned down at the top of her head. She was usually much quicker to wake up than this. _Maybe everything that happened yesterday wore her out_. Willow experimentally poked her stomach. This earned her a surprised squeak, followed by a wordless grumble. "_What_?" Blue eyes peeked open to glare up at her impatient girlfriend.

"It's morning," Willow pointed out, pouting in what she hoped was an endearingly pathetic way. Tara's gaze barely softened.

"I'm sleeping," she grumbled indignantly. Her glare lacked any real anger, but her expression was decidedly grumpy. Willow sighed in reluctance. One of her hands combed through Tara's hair and traced down her spine, provoking a comfortable murmur as she settled back down.

"Fine. Sleep." A grumpy Tara would mean fewer smooches, so if sleep was the cure, then she would wait it out. Unfortunately, Willow was too wired to hold still like a good pillow. She wanted Tara to be awake. She wanted to talk to her. She had all this happy energy and nothing to do with it. Finally, her restlessness overcame her already flimsy self control and she blurted out the first thing that came into her head. "You know, boobs are neater than I thought."

"_What_?" The sleepiness evaporated from Tara's voice, replaced by stunned surprise.

"I had never really thought about them much," Willow continued over her confusion. "I mean, mine were never anything special, and I never really paid attention to anyone else's. But it's like I'm seeing them in a new light now."

Tara buried her face in Willow's collarbone, where the redhead felt her muffled laughter. It was a long moment before she withdrew, shaking her head.

"Okay. I give up. You got me. I'm awake." She raised herself up on one elbow, giving Willow an amused look. In spite of herself, Willow felt a belated twinge of guilt.

"Sorry. You can go back to sleep if you're still tired," she offered. Tara shook her head in the negative.

"I'm not." She twisted to flop back on the bed, her head resting next to Willow's on the pillow. "I just… never used to sleep this well. I like it."

Willow's hand sought her girlfriend's under the sheets and threaded its fingers through her own. Tara almost never talked about her life before they met, so any sentence she said in the past tense was one worth listening to.

"Why didn't you sleep well?" the redhead asked gently, trying to watch the other girl's face out of the corner of her eye.

"I don't know," Tara murmured unconvincingly. Her hand fidgeted in Willow's grasp. "Bad dreams, sometimes. Worrying."

Willow shifted a few inches closer, bringing more of their bodies into contact.

"You don't worry anymore?"

Tara scooted over to close the last of the distance between them, and Willow obligingly released her hand to instead wrap an arm around her shoulders. As usual, she felt Tara relax completely into the embrace. Despite how jumpy as the blonde had initially been about physical affection, now that things had equalized between them, nothing seemed to calm her more than a hug or a gentle touch.

"Not like I used to," the blonde admitted finally, leaning her head to rest against Willow's shoulder. "It's a lot easier to relax with you here. I feel safer."

Willow felt a warmth blossom in her chest.

"Me, too." She buried a kiss in Tara's hair. Part of her wanted to push more. She wanted to ask what kinds of worries had kept Tara up at night. She wanted to ask what dreams made her wake up scared. _But I can't. I have to take these things slow._

Tara trusted her. She knew that. So if Tara didn't want to tell her about her past, it was probably because she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. And Willow wouldn't push her to talk about something she wasn't ready for. She would ignore her impatience for Tara's sake. _For now, at least._ Instead, she squeezed her girlfriend's shoulders gently and let a comfortable silence descend on the room, waiting for Tara to break it.

"You feeling okay about yesterday?" came the blonde's voice after several minutes of quiet contemplation. Willow turned her head on the pillow, bringing her nose-to-nose with the beautiful blonde. She placed an impulsive, featherlight kiss on the tip of her nose.

"I think so. You?"

Tara responded with a longer kiss to Willow's lips.

"I think the shower part was my favorite."

Willow grinned, partly from the kiss and partly from the memory. The thought of it still made the surface of her skin tingle from phantom Tara-touches.

"That was a good part," she agreed wholeheartedly. "We should try that again."

The blonde chuckled at her enthusiasm, blue eyes sparkling as she glanced around at their surroundings.

"Well, to do that, we'd have to get out of bed first."

"Not necessarily," Willow was quick to point out. Tara expertly arched one eyebrow in her direction.

"Easy, Casanova." Her tone was serious, but her expression was still playful. "I seem to recall a whole list of things you wanted to do today."

Willow wrinkled her nose. _Real life. Yuck._

"Are they important things? Life-or-death-type important?" If they weren't, then she could potentially ignore them, and the two of them could do some further 'exploring.'

"Well, you wanted to talk to your friends about what happened at the party yesterday. And you wanted to move more of your stuff into my– I mean, _our_ room."

"Those do sound kind of important," the redhead admitted. She pouted, then sighed in abject regret. "I guess we'll have to get out of bed."

"Eventually."

Still, neither moved from their cozy embrace until the light at the window was too insistent to ignore any longer. Finally, reluctantly, they dressed and abandoned the safety of their room, trekking across campus towards Stevenson Hall.

The day was warm and breezy, and the grass was bright green from soaking up the night's rain. Willow marveled at how relaxed and happy she felt this morning, in spite of yesterday's confusion and frustration. _What a difference a night can make…_

Tara's fingers tangled loosely together with hers as they walked. A traitorous part of Willow's head, the last little synapse that pulled back when the rest of her wanted to push forward with Tara, wondered if maybe they shouldn't hold hands in public before she was completely 'out.' In the end, though, Tara's hand in hers felt too good to give up without a fight.

Their leisurely pace meant that it was ten minutes before they drifted to a stop in front of Willow and Buffy's dorm room. It was a testament to how much time she had been spending in Tara's room how deep Willow had to search in her bag to find the key. It had buried itself in a corner out of neglect. When they finally got the door open and entered, the air in the room smelled stale and echoed with emptiness.

"I guess Buffy and I haven't spent much time here lately, huh?" Willow noted, chuckling weakly. She absently wondered if she should feel guilty for that or accept it as a normal part of growing up and moving on from high school life. Tara offered a silent shrug to her unspoken question. "That probably happens a lot in college, right?"

"I guess." Tara shrugged again, this time adding a half-smile. "I wouldn't know. It's… um… my first time actually being in college."

Willow returned the smile and turned her attention to her closet. A strange assortment of her old high school clothes mingled with her slightly more up-to-date college garb, forming what could generously be called an eclectic mix. She might have felt embarrassed for Tara to see it, but she had seen Tara's closet and knew it wasn't any better. She had to stifle a laugh at the thought. They deserved each other.

"I can move most of my clothes over, and then leave a few things here in case I'm hanging out with Buffy and need to change." She shot Tara a conspiratorial glance and lowered her voice. "People tend to look at you weird when you're walking across campus covered in vampire ash or demon slime."

"I'll take your word for it." Tara managed a wry half-smile in return. "Can I help with anything?"

"If you want–" Willow was cut off by a loud and insistent ringing from the phone on the nightstand. Tara started at the noise. "Hold that thought." Springs squeaked as the redhead nimbly rolled across the bed and scooped up the noisemaker. "Hello?"

"Will? Is that you?" Xander's frazzled voice erupted from the speaker. "Where have you been?"

Willow immediately frowned. Tara, picking up on the change in atmosphere, crept over to listen in on the conversation. Willow obligingly turned on the speakerphone so that they could both listen.

"I was staying at… a friend's." The half-lie slid off her tongue after only a split-second's hesitation, although she couldn't bring herself to look at Tara as she said it. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Well, I know you noticed that things were going a little... 'wild'... over at the frat house last night. At least, more than on a regular night at a frat house. And said wildness may have led to a few…" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Strange situations."

Willow shared a quick glance with her girlfriend.

"Yeah, I kind of picked up on that."

"Well, it's looking like maybe our friendly neighborhood Hellmouth might have been involved in the craziness. And it may require a little of your voodoo to fix."

"Oh." She took in Tara's grave expression, verifying that she had heard the news as well.

"So you might want to get your spellcasting butt over to Giles's place ASAP. We've been investigating all morning, and I think the G-man is planning some kind of seance-exorcism thing. But we need you here to help cast."

"'We?'"

"Giles and Anya and me. Buffy's still MIA with Riley."

Willow's gaze strayed to Buffy's empty bed.

"Alright. I'll be over in a few minutes. Don't start without me."

"Of course not. We wouldn't want you to miss any of the angry, vengeful ghost action."

They exchanged goodbyes and hung up. She held her breath as she turned to face Tara.

"I don't mind staying–" Tara started, but Willow interrupted.

"I want you to come with me." Her offer stopped Tara's offer cold. "I mean it. Giles and Xander will be there. Even Anya. And they're doing magic. We couldn't ask for a better opportunity for you to meet them all. Right? And besides, we might need your help for the spell."

Tara stared at her for a long moment, as though waiting for her to change her mind and tell her to stay behind.

"Really?" she said finally. Willow gently picked up her hands in her own.

"Definitely. That's okay with you, right? You'll come and help? And meet everyone? And they'll all love you and not freak out at all that we're dating even though we're both girls and I've never dated a girl before and Giles is old and Xander saw us kissing yesterday and–"

Tara surged forward and her lips covered Willow's, immediately halting her panicked babbling.

"It's very okay." Her smile was wide and genuine, and the redhead felt her doubts melt away without a trace. "Let's go meet your friends."


	31. Revelations

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For occasional mentions of sex. Only alluded to in this chapter.  
>Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.<p>

A/N: Apologies to everyone. I know I've been on hiatus for over 6 months. I was finishing up grad school, applying for jobs, and starting my first full-time job. And it turns out having a full-time job kind of strangles my writing impulses. I think as I get used to it, things will improve. Either way, have no fear of me abandoning this project. I get too much of a kick out of this story to stop now. And I'm really glad you guys are still reading it, even after all this time.

A/N2: For this chapter, I debated for quite some time how Xander would handle this situation. That's part of why I haven't posted sooner. I've never done as many rewrites of a chapter as I did for this one. Also, WTWTA is kind of a confusing episode, and I've already changed it a lot, so I keep having to improvise things. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and I look forward to moving on to next chapter, where we get more reactions.

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><p>Chapter 31:<br>Revelations

"It's so cool that you guys have a secret headquarters."

Willow bit her lip, glancing at Tara's half-shy, half-beaming expression. She tended to talk the Scoobies up more than necessary sometimes. She couldn't help it; Tara always seemed so impressed every time she talked about their high school adventures or used words like 'slay' or 'recon'.

"Well, it's mostly just Giles's house," she admitted reluctantly. "But we do meet up here whenever there's an apocalypse coming up."

Tara's clear blue eyes surveyed the building, sweeping from the roof to the foundation.

"Does it have a secret basement, like Lowell House? Where he trains Buffy?" she asked. Willow grinned, unable to avoid catching a little of Tara's enthusiasm.

"Not really. Actually, Buffy doesn't train with Giles at all anymore now that she's in college and he's technically not her Watcher. He got fired from the Council."

"Oh," Tara seemed slightly let down by this information. "He's nice, though, right?"

Willow wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. Judging by her eyes, Tara's nervousness was starting to bleed through her excitement.

"He'll love you. I promise. Just talk to him a little about magic and tea and books and stuff. You'll be his favorite."

"Are you sure?" the blonde asked, clearly skeptical. Willow tried to give her a confident smile.

"Hey, weren't you the one who wanted to meet everyone so bad?" She was pleased to find that her voice contained exactly the right amount of bravado. It was almost enough that she could ignore the bats flapping around in her stomach. Tara shrugged sheepishly.

"Well, yeah. I mean, they're important to you. They're your family. I want to know what they're like." She lowered her head and her voice in embarrassment. "And I… um… I kind of want them to know who I am, too."

Willow's heart melted, and she leaned over to swiftly graze Tara's lips with her own.

"Absolutely. I want them to get to know you, too." She gave a smirk. "I mean, you're amazing. I'll bet they'll totally understand the me-dating-a-girl thing once you guys spend some time together."

A reluctant smile crept over Tara's face.

"Charmer."

"It's what I do." Willow gave her shoulders one more squeeze and withdrew her arm to step forward. With one final bracing breath, she knocked on the door. Within seconds, it was opened by Xander. The second he took in the two of them, his face flushed deep red.

"Oh, hey Will. And friend who I have not met before under any circumstances. Come on in." He backed away quickly, stumbling a little on his own feet.

"I think he remembers you," Willow muttered, her voice just loud enough for Tara to hear. Her girlfriend nodded back, an answering blush coloring her cheeks.

Giles was standing by a bookshelf, one of his tomes in his hands. He barely looked up as they entered, but gave a quick second glance when he saw the new face.

"Oh. Hello there," he said to Tara, setting the book down on a nearby desk. Willow stepped forward.

"Right. Everyone, this is Tara. She's my… friend. My magic friend. She's a witch, too. A really powerful one."

Xander mostly kept his eyes trained on the flickering television screen. Anya glanced up, but apparently didn't have much to say on the matter. Tara bowed her head at the flattery, shrinking back slightly.

"Um… not really," she disagreed.

"Yes, really. She's been helping me out a lot with everything. She's the one who helped me conjure the katra."

Giles raised his eyebrows in interest at this. Xander still kept his eyes averted.

"Yes, very nice to meet you." He stepped closer and shook Tara's hand. The blonde's handshake was excited but cautious, like she was meeting a celebrity.

"I-I've heard a lot about you," she chimed in, eager to make a good impression.

"Likewise, I'm sure." Giles's attention was wandering back to the book on the desk. Willow nudged Tara forward.

"Um… D-do you need any help? Setting up the circle?" the blonde asked quickly. Giles raised his head again, eyebrows elevated slightly.

"Sorry? Oh, yes, of course." He passed her a block of chalk from a table and together, the group began preparing for the exorcism.

Xander and Anya were dispatched to retrieve Buffy and Riley from their 'preoccupation' while Giles, Willow, and Tara evicted the unsettled spirits. Willow kept a careful eye on Tara as they went about setting up for the spell. As usual, the ritual of magic seemed to have a calming influence, and Tara was marking symbols and lines on the floor with a steady hand.

"Um… what kind of spirits are they?" she heard Tara ask as she returned the chalk to Giles. He pressed his lips into a thin line, and Willow could read cold anger in his eyes. The icy glint made him seem more like Ripper than the Giles she was used to, and she shivered.

"Children," he said darkly. "In its past, the building was a home for disturbed adolescents. We spoke with the woman who ran it. She would viciously punish the children for having 'impure' thoughts. They've now established themselves as poltergeists." Noticing Tara's stunned expression, he softened his expression into a faint grimace. "Making it perhaps the worst place on earth to hold a fraternity party."

Tara stepped back, nodding. Willow frowned, noting that her face had paled considerably. She half-closed her book and walked over. Tara looked up as she approached and gave a nervous smile.

"Hey, you okay?" the redhead asked, resting a hand on her arm. Tara nodded without speaking. "Ready for the spell?" Another silent, resolute nod answered her.

All in all, the exorcism went as smoothly as could be expected, although after months of only casting alone with Tara, Willow felt like Giles was like an interloper in their magical synergy. Luckily, the spell was sound, and they were still rubbing chalk marks off the floor when an exhausted-looking Xander and Anya stumbled in, soaking wet and covered in thin scratches.

"The two 'lovebirds' should be here in a minute," Anya grumbled, depositing herself in one of Giles's armchairs and kicking off her newly grass-stained shoes.

"A-Are you two okay?" Tara asked, concern permeating her voice. Anya harumphed tiredly. After a brief, surprised glance at Tara, Xander blushed and nodded.

"Yep. A-OK. Just a little almost-drowning and some crazy man-eating plants. And more of Riley's body than I ever wanted to see." He shuddered theatrically. "You know, all in a day's work."

While they waited for Buffy and Riley to show up, Tara stood by the bookshelf, apparently talking with Giles about one of his books. Now that the spell was complete, he seemed quite interested in Tara's magical background. Even from across the room, Willow could see that Giles was impressed and that Tara was embarrassed but pleased by the attention. The redhead looked on, smiling, until a touch on her arm summoned her attention. Xander stood next to her, wearing an uneasy grin.

"Hey. So, about last night…" He glanced up for a minute, making sure everyone else was occupied with their own conversations. "Don't worry about it. I know it was all because of the ghosts. And I won't tell Buffy if you don't want me to."

Taking in his concerned face, Willow offered a wry smile. He really was a good friend, and not talking to him for so long was like walking around with her left hand tied behind her back. Not a huge deal at first, but quickly starting to feel weird and wrong. She put a hand on his arm and tugged him towards the door.

"Let's go outside for a minute, okay?"

He wrinkled his forehead in confusion.

"Uh, sure. Outside is good. Nature, trees, bugs, smog. All good." His tone was still a little too flippant, like he was overcompensating for internal panic. Regardless, he followed Willow to the door. As she stepped outside, she caught Tara's gaze from across the room. It was full of encouragement and affection, and some of her nervous tension eased at the sight. Tara was there, and Tara would be there when she was finished. That was the important thing. Everything else could be dealt with as it happened.

Not wanting to stray too far, she only led Xander a few dozen steps from the house, to stand under one of the trees on Giles's immaculately landscaped lawn. Her friend followed, one hand crammed in his pocket, one awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

"So, what's up, Will?" he asked, brown eyes scanning her face for any clues.

"A lot of things, actually," she admitted. "Sorry I've been so AWOL lately."

Xander shrugged a little.

"I've had work stuff. You and Buffy have college stuff. And Riley stuff. I get that."

_And Tara stuff_, Willow added guiltily in her head. She leaned back against the tree, frowning at how easily he accepted their abandonment of him.

"It doesn't mean we don't want to hang out with you anymore," she promised, pouting as her heart ached a little. "I miss you, Xand."

Xander gave a slight smile at this.

"I miss you guys, too." There was a brief, uncomfortable silence broken only by the rustling of leaves above them. Her oldest friend blinked up at her expectantly. "Is that what you wanted to say?"

"Not exactly." Willow sighed, hands fidgeting with one another. She looked back at the house, half-wishing that she had brought her girlfriend along for moral support. Tara always seemed so steady and composed, even in the midst of catastrophe. It was easier to stay calm when she was nearby. She turned back to Xander with imploring eyes. "What do you think of Tara?"

"Your magic buddy?" The words sounded strange in his mouth. He blushed and looked down, scuffing his feet in the neatly cut grass. "Um… she seems nice. A little shy maybe, but quite an impressive kisser."

Willow managed a small smile.

"All very true," she agreed with a slow nod. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You know, you're acting surprisingly laid-back about that whole party thing," he commented cautiously, eyes slightly suspicious.

"What do you mean?" she asked. She knew exactly what he meant, but stalling for a few extra seconds helped her feel better.

"I know I'd be pretty freaked out if I were at the party with my coworker Tito and we suddenly started mashing our faces together. I'd probably quit my job and move out of state just so I'd never have to see him again." He paused for a second, frowning. "In fact, just having that image in my head makes me want to quit my job and move out of state."

Willow gave a weak chuckle.

"Well, it's kind of a different situation," she began.

"Why? Because you're girls?" Xander raised his eyebrows. "Because if girls _actually_ make out with their friends recreationally and nobody told me–"

"No, they don't," she interrupted with a strained smile. "But… sometimes a girl might be gay, and have a girlfriend, and it wouldn't be weird for them to kiss each other."

"Yes, Willow, I am familiar with the concept of lesbianism. Every male is. Intimately," Xander deadpanned. There were a few seconds of very loud silence. "But you're not gay."

Willow took a deep breath and imagined Tara standing next to her, holding her hand and telling her to go ahead.

"Well, that's the thing. I… um… might be. Kinda gay. With Tara, at least." Before Xander could react, she sucked in another quick breath and launched into her full, somewhat frenzied explanation. "See, we were all at the Bronze and I was sad because of Oz, so I started drinking, and I met her, and I was drunk and she was gay, and we did some stuff that night– and, to be honest, probably into the next morning– and then I freaked out for awhile, but once I stopped freaking out, we started hanging out a lot and talking, and then casting spells together, and then kissing, and now we're going out and we're girlfriends– like lesbian, gay-type girlfriends– and I think I'm kind of in love with her, so you have to like her, and you have to be okay with us dating because you've been my friend since we were four and I don't think I've ever been this afraid to tell you anything, unless you count the time I accidentally broke your favorite race car in second grade, but that doesn't really count." She paused briefly because she ran out of air. She still didn't look at his face. "I guess the point is that when you saw us kissing last night, that wasn't actually a weird fluke thing. I mean, the ghosts were definitely encouraging us, but we, uh, don't actually need much encouragement. To kiss, I mean. We kind of do it all the time."

She held her breath and waited for a reaction.

"Oh."

At the single word, she looked up. It was hard to read anything in Xander's face besides blank surprise. Willow stared at him.

"That's your reaction? 'Oh'?" She almost felt offended. She had expected angry shouting at worst and happy hugs at best. She hadn't expected 'Oh.'

"Um.. yeah. 'Oh.' That's all I've got so far," he admitted. She gave him several more seconds, but no stronger reaction followed.

"So, you're not wigging? Because Buffy was kind of wigging when I told her."

"Um… It does seem kind of weird. I mean, you liked me and Oz, so I wouldn't have thought that girls were your type–"

"It wasn't something I was expecting either."

"–and if you've really known each other for months, it's weird that you never told me about her-"

"I thought you'd ask too many questions."

"–but hearing you just say it is _definitely_ less weird than walking in on you two kissing like that yesterday–"

"I'm sorry that's how you had to meet her."

"–but I guess if you've known her for that long and you love her, then I can't really–"

Willow's trains of thought all simultaneously derailed.

"Love? Did I say love?"

His brow furrowed and he scratched his head uncomfortably.

"Well, there were a lot of words in there, but yeah, I'm pretty sure 'love' was one of them."

Willow blinked and slowly slid down the tree trunk until she was sitting on the grass, feeling lightheaded.

"Oh." She hadn't actually used that word out loud yet. It seemed so… _huge_. Love. It was a big deal. _Love. I love Tara. _It wasn't really new information. Of course she loved Tara. That was obvious. She just hadn't strung the words together yet. Words were important, though. _I should go tell her._

Xander cleared his throat, interrupting her reverie.

"You said that Buffy knows?" he asked. Willow glanced up at him from her new seat on the ground.

"Yeah, she's pretty much known since the beginning. Mostly because of the whole 'sharing a room' thing. But she's the only one. Besides me and Tara, that is. And Faith, I think. And maybe this one guy who walked in on us kissing in the laundry room. And probably some of the people at the party or around campus. But officially, just Buffy. And now you."

"And you didn't tell me sooner because…" He raised his eyebrows at her questioningly.

She sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest. This was the question she had dreaded, and the one she was the least confident in her answer for.

"I didn't know how," she said first. It was vague, but it was the truth. "And I thought you'd freak out." She stared up at him again, waiting for a more panicked reaction. "How are you being so calm about this?"

He sheepishly ran a hand through his dark hair.

"Willow, last night, I saw you two almost have sex against a wall. I think my shock is all tapped out. Talk to me again in a week, and we'll see if I catch a second wind." Willow winced a little, but he continued. "Besides, we've all dated, like, bug monsters and cursed vampires and vengeance demons and werewolves. You're just dating a girl. It's weird, but it doesn't really measure up to 'resurrected mummy princess' or 'Malcolm the Internet Demon.'" Willow managed a weak chuckle, and he responded with a slightly awkward grin. "Besides, I can relate to wanting to date girls. Girls are great. I totally understand the appeal." There was a pregnant pause where it looked like he wanted to say something else, but held it back.

"What is it?" Willow asked when he continued to not speak.

"I guess… I guess I just wish you had told me sooner." There was a brief pause after this as he tried to smile at her and failed. He was wearing what she had always called his 'kicked puppy face,' where he tried to pretend he wasn't hurt when he really was. "I mean, this has been going on for months and you've never even bothered mentioning her to me. We're supposed talk about everything, even the dumb everyday stuff. It seems like this should have come up at some point."

Willow lowered her gaze to the grass as a breeze made it ripple like water.

"It's not that I didn't want to talk to you. I was just… scared. I know it sounds crazy after everything we've been through together. I mean, vampires and demons and apocalypses are no big deal, but this… felt like a big deal."

"Because you love her," Xander said, a statement rather than a question. She could tell from his tone that she hadn't been completely forgiven yet, but some of the hurt in his voice had softened.

"Yeah. Because I love her."

He heaved a sigh and nodded, his tense stance relaxing somewhat.

"Well then, congratulations." He looked back towards the house. "Are you going to tell Giles? Or Anya? Or is it still some big secret?"

Willow let her head fall back against the tree trunk.

"I don't know. I kind of just want to skip ahead to the part where everyone knows and I don't have to say anything," she admitted. "But I'm getting kind of tired of hiding. And I don't think Tara likes being treated like some dirty secret." She took a deep breath and tried the words in her mouth again. "I love her." The corners of her mouth pulled upwards against her will. Just saying them gave her a surge of happiness.

The feeling made her heart ache to see Tara again, and she began pulling herself to her feet. Xander offered his hand to help. Once standing, he began to take a step back to the house, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him into a quick hug. He was still a little tense, but gave her a quick squeeze regardless.

"Thanks for not freaking out too much," she said as he pulled back.

"We've been through a lot, Will. It'll take more than that to scare me off." He ruffled her hair and offered her a wry grin. "In exchange, though, maybe you can try a little harder to not hate _my_ girlfriend and judge me for dating her?"

Willow wasn't sure if she wanted to smile or scowl, so she settled for a grimace.

"Yeah, we'll see."


	32. Introductions

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For occasional mentions of sex. But I think there's only one questionable word in this chapter.  
>Disclaimer: <em>Duh<em>, I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: So here we are again! The chapter we've all been waiting for! Incidentally, this is the last 'serious' chapter for awhile. The next couple will be a little lighter. I'll try to keep them short and sweet so they can come out a little faster. At least this one took less than 6 months, right? Okay, I know. I suck. I'll try to do better.

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><p>Chapter 32:<br>Introductions

Willow's heart felt lighter as she pulled open the door and stepped into the cool, dim interior of Giles's house. Xander followed at her back, and across the room, she saw Tara standing by a bookcase, head tilted in interest at whatever Anya was saying. Giles was nowhere in sight, which was fine, since Willow only had eyes for Tara. The blonde looked up as the pair stepped inside, and Willow silently called her over with a look. Tara seemed to say a quick apology to Anya before returning to her girlfriend's side.

"Hey," came Tara's soft voice as she approached. Her hands fidgeted with each other nervously, then brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Is… is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," Xander answered, as Willow nodded.

"I just wanted…" Willow started, then cut herself off. She suddenly wasn't sure what she wanted. She wanted Tara to wrap her up in a big, reassuring hug. She wanted to give Tara a long, scorching kiss to burn off the residual nervousness from her previous conversation. She wanted thank Tara for being there. She wanted to share her new revelation with Tara, the words she hadn't managed to say yet. She just didn't know where to start.

She was interrupted by Tara's hand touching hers, gently twining their fingers together. She looked up with a shy smile. Tara's eyebrows were raised expectantly, awaiting her response. Willow squeezed her hand gently.

"Right. I guess I just wanted to introduce you two. For real this time." She took a deep breath. "Tara, this is Xander, my oldest and bestest friend. Xander, this is Tara, my… girlfriend." She stumbled a little bit on the word 'girlfriend.' She wasn't used to saying it to other people, and out loud, something about it sounded oddly lacking. It didn't convey the seriousness of her feelings, or the long and winding road they had taken to get to this point. But it was probably a little early to spring 'love of my life' on Tara when she was still working on that first word. So 'girlfriend' would have to do for now.

Tara took a cautious step forward and smiled up at the dark-haired boy.

"It's n-nice to finally meet you, Xander. I've, um, heard a lot about you."

She offered her hand, and Xander shook it.

"I've heard almost nothing about you, actually," he said cheerfully. "But what I did hear was… enough." He shot Willow a quick look before returning his attention to Tara. "So, it's nice to finally meet you, too."

A new, uncertain silence settled over the group while they all tried to think of what to say next. Luckily, they were saved by the sound of the door swinging open and the entrance of Buffy, looked freshly showered, but exhausted and still somewhat disheveled.

"Welcome back," Xander said, carefully avoiding looking her in the eye. "Where's your man Riley?"

"He thought he should probably give his report to the Initiative sooner rather than later. They're probably wondering what's going on, what with the whole sexy haunted house thing." She gave an awkward cough and crossed her arms. "That's all taken care of, right? No repeat performances planned?"

Willow shook her head emphatically.

"Nope. Ghosts are gone. No more good vibrations." She tried to fight down a blush, but wasn't sure if she succeeded. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tara duck her head to hide her face. "We've just been here. You know… talking. About things." She squeezed Tara's hand gently and gave Buffy a meaningful look. "Important things."

Buffy's eyes trailed down to their linked hands and her eyebrows rose.

"Really?"

"Yep," Xander answered with a brisk nod. "I'm now all up to date on all dating situations. At least as far as I know." He cleared his throat awkwardly and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "And everything's A-OK."

"Yeah," Willow agreed with a relieved smile. "Everything's great."

Buffy abandoned her embarrassed demeanor and instead pulled Willow and Xander each into a hug. Willow started to laugh, but it faded into a soft smile when Buffy pulled Tara into a quick hug as well. Tara shot her a surprised look over Buffy's shoulder, and her heart warmed at the sight. Once Buffy withdrew, Tara returned to her side, looking bemused, and Willow wrapped an arm around her waist. _See? I knew they would love her. I should listen to myself more often._

"And what's all this commotion about? Not the end of the world again, I hope," said Giles dryly as he descended the staircase back into the front room, polishing his glasses on a handkerchief.

Before Buffy or Willow or Xander or even Tara could answer, another voice piped up from across the room.

"Everyone's apparently hugging each other because Willow is dating Tara now," said Anya very matter-of-factly. A stunned silence descended on the room. Willow's jaw fell open in shock, which was quickly turning into horror, which would soon turn into rage. Anya arched an eyebrow at her speechlessness. "What? If you wanted it to be some kind of secret, you shouldn't have been over there talking so loud." Willow tried to form words, but words didn't exist for situations like this. Anya continued, rolling her eyes. "And it's not like it wasn't obvious, the way you two kept looking at each other." Willow tried to speak, but all that came out was a choking, sputtering noise. Even then, it was a very, _very_ angry choking, sputtering noise. Xander took a half-step forward, but whether it was to stop Anya from talking or to protect her from Willow was impossible to tell. Anya, either not noticing or not caring, just raised her eyebrows and folded her arms with a shrug. "What? I don't see the problem. I already like Tara better than Oz anyway, and if Willow's dating girls now, it means she won't try to kiss Xander again, so I'm all for it."

Willow sucked in a huge breath of air, ready to shout, to grab Anya by the throat and shake her and tell her that you weren't allowed to just say things like that, that she was always so ridiculously inappropriate, that she had just ruined Willow's one chance to gently explain to Giles what was going on, and that if Xander weren't in love with her, she would turn her into a gross, slimy frog and then step on her. She opened her mouth to say all that.

And then she saw Tara. Tara stood next to her, Willow's arm encircling her, looking at Anya, looking at all of them, and her blue eyes were positively dancing with mirth. One hand covered her mouth to hide her smile, and her shoulders shook with stifled laughter.

And just like that, Willow let out her breath, and all the anger flooded out with it.

_Well, I did just say that I wanted to skip ahead to the part where everyone just knew. Be careful what you wish for, right?_

Willow gave Anya an annoyed growl and a threatening choking gesture, but finally had to give in. If Tara didn't mind the unexpected outing, then she supposed it must not be so bad. She raised her head and looked at Giles. He stood stock-still on the stairs, frozen in place with wide eyes. Willow sighed.

"That wasn't really how I had planned on telling you–" She shot Anya one last death glare for good measure. "– but it's true. Tara's not just my magic friend. She's my girlfriend."

Tara beamed. Willow squeezed her hand. Giles coughed once and began nodding awkwardly. His hands went back to polishing his glasses at a borderline frantic speed.

"I see. Yes. Well. Very good, then." He looked up at them and gave a weak smile. "I'm glad you told me."

"It seemed like the time to tell everyone, I guess." Her eyes flickered to Anya again, but Tara's goofy smile and adoring gaze was all it took to quench the fire out of her anger. She sighed, and kissed Tara's cheek.

_Still too sweet for her own good._

—

They were all ushered out of Giles's house soon after that. Buffy wanted to go and sleep 'until the next apocalypse,' as she put it. Xander was all too happy to escape the newly awkward atmosphere and get Anya as far from Willow as possible. Willow just walked out with Tara, arms twined together. She steadily watched the ground in front of them, and wondered if she would ever be able to stop blushing, or if it was going to become a permanent feature.

"They seemed to take it well, all things considered," Tara interrupted her reverie, swinging their linked hands as they walked back towards campus.

"I don't know. They were acting a little weird."

"I don't think that's anything to worry about. I mean, it's all new to them. It might take them awhile to process it all." Tara slowed their pace until Willow looked up at her. The blonde had coaxed her face into as serious an expression as she could manage. She was clearly suppressing some of her happiness for Willow's benefit. "I mean… that's how it was with Buffy, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so." The thought cheered her somewhat, as did Tara's obvious joy. "I just can't believe that Anya just blurted it out like that. Or, you know what, I _can_, and that's the problem. She never thinks 'Hey, maybe I shouldn't say this. Maybe it's offensive, or a secret, or a spell to summon alternate-dimensional vampires from a mirror world, or–'"

"I actually kind of like that about her," Tara interrupted her rant. Willow raised her eyebrows in confused surprise.

"You do?"

"Yeah. It's kind of nice when people are really direct like that. There's nothing to decode, you know? You never have to worry that they're lying to you or trying to trick you." She blushed a little, and Willow felt another tiny piece of the 'Tara's Past' jigsaw puzzle click into place. "Besides, I don't think she was trying to upset you."

Willow gave her a long look, her general annoyance with Anya warring against her love of Tara's kind nature.

"You actually like her, don't you?" she finally asked, giving in. If Tara really liked Anya, then Willow didn't want to ruin that for her. _Even if she's an inappropriate, rude, offensive, socially inept thousand-year-old._ She sighed regretfully. She might have to actually keep her promise to Xander and really make an effort to stop hating the ex-demon.

"I think so. I mean, we didn't talk that much. But she's interesting. And kind of funny." Tara gave an embarrassed shrug. "She did try to talk about Xander's, um… _penis_… once." Her nose wrinkled in obvious distaste, and her voice barely whispered the questionable word. "But I took your advice and changed the subject to money instead."

"She does that a lot. Trust me." Willow rolled her eyes at the countless memories. "What about the others? Did you like them, too?"

"Yeah, of course. I mean, Xander was really sweet. I think he really wants to support you in this. And I think I like Mr. Giles, too. He seems really… British."

"And that's a good thing?"

"I think so. I mean, he seems really kind and gentle." Her smile flickered a little bit. "E-except for that one thing. About the kids."

"Well, that's Giles. He usually is really nice and sweet. But he can be tough, too, when he needs to be. At least until something hits him on the head." She gave a slight chuckle. They fell into a comfortable silence as they approached the edge of campus.

"So how are you feeling about everything tonight?" Tara asked quietly as they stepped onto the sidewalk path that would lead them back to Kresge Hall. "Are you okay?"

Willow took in a long breath and let it out just as slowly.

"I think I'm happy about it," she said finally. "I mean, I wanted them to know, and to meet you. It wasn't exactly like I imagined it, but I think it'll be okay. None of them seemed mad or anything." She shrugged one shoulder a little. "I think Giles will be freaked for awhile, but that's not too surprising. I don't think he likes thinking about us being in adult relationships. Like, he's never been thrilled about Anya talking about her and Xander's sex life either, but I think he's gotten used to it. And if he can get used to something like that, he'll probably be able to get over me dating a girl in no time. Especially you. I mean, you two seemed to be hitting it off when you were talking, right? When he was talking to you about magic and stuff? He seemed to like you, didn't he?" As her eyes desperately focused on Tara's face, she saw the soft, indulgent smile that usually meant one thing. "I'm babbling again, aren't I?"

"A little bit, sweetie–" Willow started to blush, partly out of embarrassment from rambling and partly out of pleasure from the pet name. "–but I still think it's cute." Tara leaned over and kissed her cheek, making her heart flutter even faster. She couldn't keep the smile off her face. Whenever Tara kissed her, it felt like there was too much oxygen in the air, and just breathing made her feel energized and a little lightheaded. She let her gait slip sideways so that their entwined arms had more points of contact.

"Good," she murmured, carefully keeping her answer down to one syllable. Tara chuckled and squeezed her hand.

"And anyway, I think you're right. I think he'll be fine with it once he has time to get used to the idea. It's obvious he loves you guys."

Willow mulled this over for a few more seconds, and felt better for it. Tara really did seem to know just the right thing to say to calm her nerves. She leaned into her girlfriend's side and finally let herself relax.

"Yeah," she murmured in agreement. She sighed contentedly as Tara's arm slid around to settle over her shoulders, and side by side, they walked home.


	33. Bluffing

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For occasional mentions of sex. But not in this chapter.  
>Disclaimer: <em>Duh<em>, I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: Hmm, this chapter had a little bit of a serious turn to it that I hadn't totally planned for. I'm embracing it, though. And on an unrelated note, WOW is it hard to write a scene where there are five people in the room. I'm used to 2-3. Five is a bit of a crowd. That being said, Anya is super fun to write. Next chapter should come along pretty quickly. I think I'm going to enjoy that one a lot.

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><p>Chapter 33:<br>Bluffing

"Okay, so I guess I… call?" Tara's statement turned into a question as she frowned down her pile of poker chips, and she looked over to Willow for verification.

The redhead shrugged, slightly apologetic. They had been playing for almost an hour now, but Tara still seemed somewhat baffled by the card game. Willow thought they probably weren't explaining it very well. It had been a long time since they had had a new player.

"It depends on your hand, and how you want to play it," she advised vaguely. _Poor baby. __No wonder she's confused. None of us have anything helpful to say._

"I guess... I guess I don't _know_ how I want to play it," Tara murmured dubiously, her eyebrows drawing together as she regarded her cards. "I don't think I really understand this game. Is it okay if I just, um, watch you guys play? For awhile?"

Across the table, Buffy nodded agreeably and offered a reassuring smile.

"Sure," she said, leaning back in her chair. "You don't have to play if you don't want to."

Tara set her cards down face-up on the table, looking visibly relived. Willow raised her eyebrows at the sight, but decided not to mention to Tara that she had had a flush of spades that would have almost definitely won the hand.

"Do you want to try another game?" she offered instead. "We don't have to play poker."

"N-no, that's okay. You guys go ahead." Tara shook her head and scooted back from the table, physically distancing herself from the cards.

"If you're sure…" Willow began, planning to reassure her that no one would really mind if they switched to something more straightforward, like Go Fish. But before she could get to that part, an eager voice interrupted her.

"If you're leaving, can I have your money?" Anya asked hopefully. She was eying Tara's small cache of chips from across the table. Willow's head whipped around before she had time to plan her response. At the last second, right before the shouting started, she reminded herself that she was supposed to be civil with Anya from now on, in deference to Xander's (and Tara's) wishes. It wasn't easy. She clenched her jaw to hold her mouth shut, but still sent a fierce glare across the table. Anya easily ignored her. "What? If she's leaving the game, someone ought to use her colorful fake-money chips."

"Um… Actually, Anya, I think I'll just put them back in the box," Tara said diplomatically, a small smile gracing her lips. "You know, to keep things fair."

"Who cares if it's fair? I just want to win," Anya said, waving one hand carelessly. "That's what capitalism is all about."

Willow felt a headache coming on, but Tara was biting her lip to stifle her grin, making it come out crooked and cute. Willow decided that Tara must be the most patient and tolerant person on the planet.

"Well… I guess if it's not real money, it can go back into the game." The blonde shrugged and pushed all her chips into the pot, then withdrew fully from her place at the table, dragging her chair next to Willow's.

"I tried to get Xander to play with real money, but he says we shouldn't, even though money games are more fun than other games," Anya continued. "Have you ever played 'Stock Market,' Tara?"

Tara's eyebrows arched and her gaze sought Willow's. Willow had noticed her doing that a lot over the course of the night, especially when the others asked her questions. Even though she had met everyone the week before, she still seemed a little intimidated by them.

"You mean… the actual stock market?"

Anya nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, the one where you put money into companies and then get more back. It's way more fun than poker." Her eyes lit up at the thought.

"Um…" Tara seemed at a loss for a response.

"Anya…" Willow warned, coming to her girlfriend's aid. As usual, Anya seemed to disregard her, and opened her mouth to continue. Luckily, Xander put an arm around her shoulders and preemptively interrupted.

"Ahn, maybe we shouldn't scare off Willow's new girlfriend by talking about economics all night."

"Hey, maybe you shouldn't scare off _me_ by talking about economics all night," Buffy threw in, rearranging a few cards in her hand.

"It's okay," Tara said, recovering gracefully from her confusion. "Anya, I think I should probably figure out poker first. Maybe next time, you can explain to me about the betting. I'm probably not thinking about it the right way."

Looking up over her cards, Willow could see Anya beaming at the thought, and Xander smiling gratefully.

"Don't worry about it, Tara," Willow murmured, tugging on her arm to bring her closer. Tara gamely shifted over so that their chairs knocked together and their knees touched. "Just stick with me this time. You can look at my hand and see what I do."

As they huddled around her cards and Willow whispered her plan to draw either a ten or a six, Xander shot them a suspicious look.

"Hey, I better not see any of that witchy cheating that Will likes to do," he warned.

"You cheat?" Tara asked, eyebrows raised.

"I do not!" the redhead cried indignantly. She leaned over to whisper in Tara's ear. "Sometimes, I'll say fake magic-sounding stuff just to throw him off." Tara grinned, and they both giggled softly.

"You guys must play this a lot," she commented as she pulled back. Willow nodded.

"Different games sometimes, but yeah. We play cards all the time. We have since high school." Willow traded out one of her cards, but it wasn't what she had hoped for.

"In between the almost-dying," Xander amended her sentence.

Tara frowned and pressed closer to Willow, apparently not liking the thought. Willow wrapped a comforting arm around her back.

"Willow told me your high school adventures were pretty exciting," the blonde commented.

"Oh, yeah. _Painfully_ exciting." Xander rolled his eyes at the memories. Willow smirked.

"Like the time he dated a praying mantis," Willow offered as an example.

"What?" Tara cocked her head to the side like she didn't think she had heard correctly.

"A praying mantis who was also our substitute teacher," Willow continued. "So in addition to being at least two kinds of gross, it was also illegal."

"In my defense," Xander responded loudly, "her human form was smoking hot and dripping with pheromones."

"_Or_ the time you dated a 500-year-old Incan mummy princess." Willow paused mid-thought as something occurred to her. _First a 30-year old teacher, then a 500-year-old mummy, then a 1000-year-old ex-demon…_ "Xan, do you have some kind of _thing_ for older women? Like, _i__mpossibly _older women?"

"I seem to recall your first boyfriend being somewhere around the 500-year mark," Xander countered.

Tara gave her a questioning look.

"Who, Malcolm?" Willow scoffed. "You can't call him my boyfriend. I never even met him in person until he started his robotic rampage!"

"Then you can't say I dated the praying mantis lady!"

Tara, who had been looking back-and-forth between them, seemed to give up and turned towards Buffy.

"Are they always like this?" she asked, curiosity evident in her voice. Buffy shrugged.

"Not always, but sometimes, once they get each other going," the Slayer admitted. She offered Tara a reassuring smirk. "I was the new girl once, too. Trust me, you'll get used to it."

Xander gave a time-out sign.

"Alright, alright. Enough about our poor romantic decisions from high school," he insisted. Willow almost kept going— she knew that she had more dirt on him than he had on her. "Especially since _both_ of our girlfriends are here."

At that, Willow paused. _Hmm... he's kind of got a point there. There are probably some stories about me that Tara doesn't need to know..._ She snuck a glance at her girlfriend, who still looked bemused by their antics. After a beat, Xander turned his attention to the blonde as well. "Tara, save us from this terrible subject. Tell us about your high school adventures."

Tara's blue eyes widened into a deer-in-headlights expression.

"Oh… m-me?" she stammered, blushing and shaking her head. Willow felt her try to shrink into her side. "There's, uh, nothing to tell. It was just a high school. Nothing exciting."

Xander waved off her evasive answer.

"Aw, come on. There has to be something. Magic spells. Cow tipping. Kissing girls. Tell Uncle Xander all about it."

"No, just regular boring stuff. Class. Lunch. That's it." Willow could feel the tension building in Tara's body as the questions kept coming.

"Hey, that works too," Xander said with a shrug. "We grew up _here_, you know. Hellmouth Central. Normal high school stuff sounds pretty adventurous to us." He was clearly trying to be nice and encouraging, but Willow could feel how nervous Tara was getting. She knew for a fact that Tara's high school experience had been a bad one, but she was still surprised by how resistant she was to talk about it.

"R-r-really… there's n-nothing to talk about. It's all boring." Tara cleared her throat awkwardly, as though trying to shake off the nervous stutter. "Um… besides, I'd rather hear about you guys some more. I heard you s-summoned a vampire-Willow once?"

"That was me, but it was an accident," said Anya carelessly. "I was just trying to get my amulet back so I could be a vengeance demon again. She came through the portal instead."

Willow expected Tara to inquire further about the leather clothing and overall kinda-gay-ness of her vampire self, but something about Anya's response seemed to bother her enough to divert her attention. Her eyebrows knitted together and her mouth twisted into a confused frown.

"Become a demon again? Why? Didn't you want to be human?"

Anya shook her head, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"Nah. Once you've had demon powers for a thousand years, being stuck back in high school is worse than any hell dimension. Even worse than those all-shrimp dimensions. I wanted out."

Tara was still frowning.

"Then… how were you cured in the first place?" she asked.

"Cured?" Anya echoed, frowning.

_Cured?_ Willow thought. It was an odd word to use in that context. Tara bowed her head in embarrassment as the whole table looked at her. Worried, Willow rubbed a hand up and down her back for comfort. _It's alright, baby. They're not trying to make you feel bad. Don't hide._

"You know, turned human. Instead of demon," Tara clarified after a moment, in a much quieter voice.

"Oh. That was an accident. My amulet got smashed. It had all my powers in it, so when it was gone, I was stuck as a human again," Anya explained.

"Oh…" Tara breathed the word so it was barely audible, but Willow thought she sounded disappointed. She must have assumed that Anya had become human of her own volition.

"I'm over it now," the ex-demon mentioned. "Vengeance was fun, but orgasms with Xander are funner."

Tara lifted her gaze from her curtain of hair and gave her a long look, like she suspected she wasn't being honest.

"Still… it must have been hard for you, to change after all that time."

Anya looked surprised by that. Willow wasn't sure she had ever seen her look surprised before. Then again, none of them had ever given Anya that much credit before.

"It was," Anya admitted, shifting closer to the man at her side. If Willow didn't know better, she would have thought that she sounded sad. "Xander made it easier. And Giles and Buffy and Willow."

There was a small silence around the table. No one was sure what to say after that. Finally, Xander took mercy on all of them by clearing his throat.

"I think this calls for more snacks. Who's with me? Will?" Xander stood, nodding towards the staircase leading to his parents' part of the house. Willow nodded slightly and stood, but not before giving Tara an extra squeeze.

They trekked upstairs, where Xander immediately began raiding the fridge for snacks.

"Tara and Anya seem to be getting along," Willow commented, stating the obvious.

"I've noticed," he agreed. "I'm glad. Anya likes her. She says that Tara's nicer and friendlier than… um… other people." He stumbled on the last couple of words. Willow could guess why.

"Like me."

"I don't recall if names were mentioned." He busied himself looking behind a gallon of milk.

"I guess if Tara likes her, I can try a little harder to make nice," Willow said reluctantly.

"You haven't yelled at her yet tonight. That's practically a record," he credited her. Willow shrugged.

"It's hard to be mad around Tara. It's like trying to be mad while sitting under a blanket with a book and a cup of tea. She's just… I don't know. It's like she has some aura of calmness around her." It was true. Tara always maintained a sense of calm. _Almost always calm… but almost never relaxed_, Willow corrected herself. Again, she wondered why that was.

"I think that's probably the love talking," Xander interrupted her thoughts. She clapped a hand over his mouth and shushed him violently.

"Just shout it down at her, why don't you?" she hissed angrily. He gave her a look of confusion, replaced quickly by surprise. He pried her hand off his face.

"You haven't told her yet?" he asked in a lower tone. Willow sighed.

"There hasn't been a right time for it," she explained. "I want it to be something special. Something she'll remember."

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"I think she'll remember," he deadpanned.

"I just… I don't know. I feel like it'd be a weird thing to just bring up. Sometimes she doesn't want to talk about certain things." She slumped against the counter, and he handed her a can of root beer from the fridge.

"Yeah, I noticed that about the high school thing. Did something bad happen to her in high school? Because I can back off if it's something important." He glanced back at the door to the basement in concern.

"Maybe. I don't know." Willow frowned, fussing with the pull-tab on the can.

Xander stared at her for a long moment, as though waiting for her to give the real answer. When she didn't, his eyes slowly widened in surprise.

"Wait– You _literally_ don't know?" He sounded honestly confused. Willow shrugged uncomfortably.

"She's like that when it comes to anything in her past. She doesn't like to talk about it."

"Anything?" he asked, fishing for more information.

"You know... high school stuff. Family stuff. Life stuff. Anything." She tried to keep her voice flat, but she wasn't sure it worked.

"But... _Anything_? Even with you?"

"Yep." She turned her attention back at him and didn't like the concerned look she saw. "What? Stop looking at me like that."

"Sorry, I just… thought she talked to you about stuff like that." He scratched his head. "I mean, I know you talk to her about that stuff."

Strictly speaking, he wasn't completely right. When she talked to Tara about high school, she tended to skip the parts about bullying and self-doubt, and she almost never stayed on the topic of her parents for very long. It was easier to talk about demons and apocalypses and adventures. But she didn't even know that much about Tara's past.

"She's really private about things that happened before we met. She doesn't like to talk about it."

He blinked at her.

"And you don't think that's weird?"

"No. Maybe. I guess." She shrugged, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. "I stopped asking after the first couple of times. She's really good at changing the subject, and it didn't seem that important."

"But it doesn't worry you?" His forehead was wrinkled with concern.

"Should it?" She honestly wanted an answer. She had wondered about Tara's private past before, but she hadn't seen the secrecy as a problem. But now that he was mentioning it, and now that they had been dating for so much longer, and now that she knew she was in love with her…

"I don't know. Do you think she's trying to hide something?" Xander asked.

"I guess I've always just assumed she found it embarrassing," Willow murmured, still partially lost in her own thoughts. "Anyway, I know the important things about her." _Like that she's a good, kind, sweet person. And that she cares about me. Those are more important than anything in her past._

"Well, as long as it doesn't bother you…" He gathered the snacks in his arms and started to walk back towards the basement.

"It doesn't." Willow trailed behind him, but as they reached the bottom of the stairs and she saw Tara grinning at her over her shoulder, she realized that she was lying.


	34. Testy

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For occasional mentions of sex. But not in this chapter.  
>Disclaimer: <em>Duh<em>, I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: You know what we haven't had in awhile that I really love? A DREAM SEQUENCE! God I love writing the dream sequences for this fic. They're just the funnest. I hope you guys enjoy reading them even half as much as I enjoy writing them. Anyway… Enjoy.  
>AN2: Oh, and if you're still in the Halloween spirit, I wrote a Halloween W/T fic last year named Extra Flamey that you can go read if you like.

* * *

><p>Chapter 34:<br>Testy

Cold fluorescent lighting illuminated the hall as Willow walked to class. She was trying to remember which class she had next when Xander jogged up to her and threw an arm around her shoulder. The hallways of Sunnydale High were eerily empty except for the two of them.

"Hey, Willster! You ready for that test?"

Willow had to think for a moment before answering.

"Yeah, I think so. I've been studying a lot." She nodded confidently, and together they walked into the Professor Walsh's psychology auditorium. On the board in chalk were the words "LOVE 101: EXAM TODAY." Willow took her seat, Xander automatically plopping into the desk next to hers. She looked down at her desk, and a large packet of papers sat in front of her. "TARA" was written at the top of the first page. Willow smiled at the sight. She looked over at Xander, who was already starting his test, labeled with Anya's name.

"You studied, too?" she asked. He nodded proudly.

"Yep. This should be a cinch."

Smiling, Willow looked down at the exam.

QUESTION ONE: WHAT IS TARA'S FULL NAME?

Willow blinked, then wrote _Tara Maclay_. She had never thought about it before, but realized she didn't know Tara's middle name. It had never come up in conversation. She thought harder, trying to think if it had seen it written on a school form or a personal possession, but nothing came to mind. She smiled and shook her head at herself, making a mental note to ask her later, and moved on.

QUESTION TWO: WHEN IS TARA'S BIRTHDAY?

Willow's pen tapped against the page. She knew it was in the fall, because Tara had said it had already passed not long before they met. She had never asked for specifics, since it was still so far away. _Maybe I should ask her. If she didn't have many friends here yet, she might not have celebrated at all._ The thought of Tara spending her birthday alone in her dorm room working on homework made her sad. _Maybe we can celebrate her half-birthday in spring, to make up for it. _She liked that idea. Her pen hesitated over the blank, then scribbled _October_ as a guess.

QUESTION THREE: WHO IS IN TARA'S IMMEDIATE FAMILY?

Willow frowned at the page. Her teeth clenched nervously over her pen cap as she thought. _Tara's family… She never talks about her family._ She began to sweat. She had been so sure she would ace this test. She knew all kinds of things about Tara. If the questions had been about which books she liked, or her favorite kinds of spells, or the way she sighed in her sleep, it would have been a breeze. But it wasn't. The pen shook as it hovered over the empty lines. _She must have parents. Probably. And she's never mentioned siblings. But then again, she's never mentioned anyone. _Willow penned _Mother_ and _Father_ in shaky lettering, not knowing their names, then moved onto the next question.

QUESTION FOUR: WHERE DID TARA LIVE BEFORE COLLEGE?

_Maybe somewhere in the Midwest? Or the South? Somewhere conservative, maybe. Somewhere with seasons. And horses…_ Willow briefly pushed her test away and nervously wiped her face. Her hands felt cold. She didn't know what to answer. She was barely through the first page, and she was sure that every answer was wrong. Maybe Tara had a funny middle name, or no middle name, or two middle names. Maybe she had six sisters, or two brothers, or no siblings. Maybe she had lived in Alabama, or Iowa, or West Virginia. Maybe she lived with her grandparents and cousins on the Alaskan tundra. She just didn't know.

She looked over at Xander, who was racing through the third page of his Anya test, still grinning confidently.

"What's wrong, Will?" he asked. "Stuck on a question?"

"Stuck on all the questions," she answered dully. Her stomach churned with nerves.

"Didn't you study?" he asked.

"I don't think I got all the material." She rubbed at her face again, as though she could physically tease the information out of her skull.

"Well, I'm sure you'll get some of them. I mean, the first page is all just basic stuff," he said in what was supposed to be a comforting tone.

"But I don't know the answers…" she whispered, staring down at the questions with knitted eyebrows.

"Why not?" he asked innocently.

"I…" Willow paused, then heaved a sigh. "I don't know." That was what it came down to. Tara had things she wanted to hide, and Willow didn't know why. She thought that they were close enough that Tara could trust her, but maybe that wasn't true. "She doesn't talk about things that happened before we met."

"And you never asked?" Xander set his pen down briefly to instead study her face. Willow shrugged meekly.

"We talk about so many other things, I guess it never seemed that weird." She hadn't thought that much about it until recently. It wasn't like they never talked. They talked _constantly_. Just not about the past or the future. The present had always had enough to keep them occupied.

"It seems weird to me. Of course, Anya doesn't really know how to _not _talk about things, so maybe I'm biased. Either way, it seems weird," Xander commented before turning back to his test with a shrug. "But it's your test."

_My test. My love. My Tara. This is something I have to do right._

With renewed determination, Willow kept reading down the page. The next question asked about Tara's best childhood friends. Another asked about her religious background. Another about her medical history. She flipped the page, only to be greeted with a question about Tara's future– her career goals, her life plans, her deepest hopes. Willow laid her forehead on the desk and tried to think through the cloud of nauseating panic.

"Did you get to the part about sexual positions yet? I'm _definitely_ going to ace that section." Xander turned the page with a flourish and began writing again. "How about you, Buff? You know which one you're taking yet?"

"I'm thinking about it, okay? It's a big decision," snapped a tense voice from her other side. Willow turned abruptly, but wasn't too surprised to see Buffy sitting next to her, glowering down at two separate tests on her desk. Willow leaned over and saw that one was labeled ANGEL and one was labeled RILEY. The Slayer kept picking the RILEY test up, then hesitating and putting it back down. She would look between the two tests, her hand would hesitate over the ANGEL test, then she would pick up RILEY again and the process would repeat itself.

"Can't decide?" Willow asked, watching her indecision.

"No. I mean, yes. I'm taking the Riley test. Definitely. Probably. Maybe. I think. I mean, I _should_. I mean, I _want to_." She slapped the RILEY test back on the desk and scowled, looking disgusted with herself. "I don't know." She gave a frustrated huff. "Which one are you taking?"

Willow blinked.

"What do you mean? The Tara test. That's the only one for me." She looked down at the test, with her few hastily penned answers.

"Are you sure?" came Xander's voice from her other side. He was looking over at her desk. "You should double-check." Willow frowned and lifted up the TARA test. She sucked in a quick, surprised breath at what sat beneath it. Another test, almost identical, lay on the desk, the title at the top reading OZ. Willow shook her head quickly.

"No, that doesn't belong there. I'm done with that one. That was last semester, and I failed." She blinked, then quickly added, "Which is fine. It was for the best. I would have dropped out anyway."

Xander gave an uncomfortable shrug.

"You could still retake the test, though. If you want. I mean, you know all the answers to that one, don't you? You could pass that one in a heartbeat. I bet you could still get full credit for the class," he pointed out.

Willow gulped and scanned down the front page of the OZ test. Xander was right. She remembered all of it– Oz's full name, his birthday, his family, his friends, his aspirations. It was all there, straightforward and easy. She could ace that test.

"It doesn't matter," she insisted. "I don't _want_ credit for that class. I want credit for Tara's. I want an A+. With a big gold star next to it. And a note from the teacher to see her after class for extra credit." The thought brought a slight smile to her face.

"Well, you're not going to pass the test now, are you? I mean, you can't even get past the first page," Xander said, nodding towards the still-mostly-blank test. Willow shook her head stubbornly.

"But that's not the important stuff," she protested. _It's fine. I don't need to know her middle name to know that I'm in love with her. It shouldn't matter._

"Well, it's not the _most_ important stuff, but it is still kind of important, isn't it?" Buffy said softly. Her voice was reasonable, and her eyes were sympathetic. "I mean, how can you really know her in the present if you don't know about her past or future?"

"I…" Willow shook her head. Now she was just confused. And her heart ached. There was only one solution. "I need to talk to the professor. I think she forgot to give me all the material."

Xander chuckled humorlessly.

"Sure, 'forgot.' That happens all the time. I remember 'forgetting' to tell Anya all about my hopes and dreams and fondest memories."

Buffy shot him a glare.

"Hey, it's not unheard of. I'm not sure Riley could pass a BUFFY test right now," she snapped. But before she could argue further, she suddenly deflated. "But… I guess that's not really accidental." She sighed and picked up the ANGEL test for a second, then set it down again, shaking her head. "This is stupid. I give up. I'm dropping this class. Maybe I'll take it next year or something." She shoved both tests away and slumped in her chair. Willow squeezed her shoulder as she got up from her seat.

"I'm going to go see the professor. Maybe we can get this fixed," she said hopefully.

"Good luck," Xander wished, still scribbling answers cheerfully on his test.

Willow walked down the stairs of the auditorium and headed for the door. The hallway was empty, so she stopped for a drink at the water fountain before walking off to find the professor's office. Her stomach still churned, and her hands were still shaky and cold. She felt awful about the test. She hated failing, especially something this important, something she cared about this strongly, something she had been so sure she was ready for. She couldn't fail this class. She just couldn't.

She stopped her trek outside of a heavy, wooden dorm room door. She pushed it open without knocking. The professor sat at the desk, illuminated only by the fairy lights on the wall and a single candle on the desktop.

"Yes?" the blonde asked, looking up from where she appeared to be grading papers. "Do you have a question about the test?"

Willow stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. Now that she was here, looking the professor in the eye, she actually found that she felt angry.

"I have nothing _but_ questions about the test! I don't understand! How am I supposed to pass if it's all about things we never covered?"

"Have a seat." The professor gestured towards the bed, and Willow settled on the soft mattress. Tara looked at her with calm blue eyes, and she found herself instinctively relaxing back into the pillows. "Now what's the problem? You didn't know the answers?"

"No, I didn't," she grumbled.

"Why? Didn't you study the material?" the professor asked, one eyebrow raised. Willow shot upward into a sitting position.

"What material?! You didn't give me any material." She half-yelled, before remembering to lower her voice. Tara always flinched when people shouted. She continued in a quieter voice. "You never talk about that stuff."

The professor nodded absently.

"True. I guess that could be a problem," she agreed. "But don't you trust me?"

Willow sighed at Tara's hopeful expression.

"Of course I do. But I'm starting to get the feeling that you don't trust me back. I get that you don't want to talk about your past, but after a certain point, you're just hiding things for the sake of hiding them. I mean… God, Tara, what am I supposed to do?" She fell back on the bed with frustration, flinging an arm over her eyes as she huffed.

The world twisted around her as the rattle of a door disturbed it. She rolled over restlessly, trying to get the room to hold still again instead of swimming dizzily.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize…" came the professor's voice from a different angle. Willow sat up groggily, her body feeling heavy and disoriented. The lighting in the room had changed. The candle was out, and indirect evening light made the window glow weakly from behind the curtains. But everything else was the same.

"Tara…" she shook her head dizzily, forcing herself to focus on the argument again. This was important. "I know that you don't want to talk about it, but don't I deserve to know? I mean, I know they aren't the most important things, but they're still kind of important, right?"

Tara froze in the doorway, eyes wide and confused. She was wearing different clothes now, but that didn't strike Willow as particularly odd.

"W-what? What things?" Tara stammered.

"Why don't I know about your family? Or where you're from? Why does everything have to be some huge secret? I know some things can be hard to talk about, but why is it _everything_? Don't you trust me?" She could hear the pain in her own voice, and almost winced at it. At the sound, Tara's face looked like someone had punched her in the stomach.

"Willow… O-of course I trust you. I trust you with my life. What are you–"

Her voice was cautious, and her arms clutched her messenger bag protectively in front of her, but Willow didn't care. She needed to pass that test, and Tara hadn't given her all the material. If they were going to be a serious couple, they needed to know things about each other.

"You trust me with your life, but not your secrets, is that it?" Willow barreled on, continuing to work herself into a state of complete outrage. "Tara, I barely know anything about you. After our first night together, I didn't even know your name, and now, months later, I still don't know any more than that!"

After months of being in near-constant proximity, Willow recognized that Tara's current stance– shoulders drawn forward, head bowed, arms hugged around her middle– meant she was terrified.

"You… Y-yes, you do! Of c-course you do! You know me b-better than anyone in my whole life!" She looked at her with huge, pleading eyes, begging for her to stop the argument. "Willow, you know my heart."

Willow lowered her voice again. It was hard to keep from yelling when she was this upset, but she still didn't want to scare Tara. She just wanted her to listen.

"But I don't know your head. I know what you feel, but never what you think. I know your present, but not your past, not your future. Why is everything a secret? Why is it so important that I don't know?" She kept her voice soft, but insistent, but Tara didn't seem to feel any better.

"Willow, where is this coming from?" Her face was pale, but her eyes were starting to harden as Willow kept pressing her. "You've never said anything about this before."

Willow almost wanted to get up and pace. The fight was giving her a twitchy sort of nervous energy. But her body felt too tired to get up.

"Because Xander asked me if something bad happened to you in high school, and I didn't know. Buffy asked me where you were from, and I didn't know. And those seem like the kinds of things I should know!" She realized she was yelling again, but didn't stop herself this time. "Tara! Why can't I know anything about you?!"

Tara said nothing for a long moment, but her eyes seemed bright with fear and resentment. When she spoke, her voice was quiet but cool.

"Why does it matter? Why do you have to know?" Her shoulders straightened, but her arms stayed locked defensively in front of her.

"Why won't you let me?!" Willow countered. Tara shook her head, frowning in confusion.

"I just… I just don't understand why you're so upset all of a sudden! Where is this coming from? Willow, why does it matter so much?" she asked sharply.

"Because I have go back in and finish the test, and I don't have any of the answers! How can I pass the class if you didn't give me any of the materials?!" She climbed to her feet, but unexpectedly staggered. Her legs were wobbly and sleepy, the way they usually were right when she woke up.

Exactly the way they were right when she woke up.

… _Wait…_

Tara stared at her in a hurt, nervous, defensive sort of confusion.

"_What_?" the blonde asked, shaking her head, completely lost.

Willow blinked up at her through heavy-lidded eyes.

"The test. In the class… out there… um…" Willow blinked and shook herself, trying to reorient her head. Slowly, logic and reality trickled back to her. "Oh my god…" She buried her face in her hands. "It was a dream…" She gave an inaudible groan. "I was taking a test. About you. And I didn't have any of the answers."

When she peeked between her fingers, she saw Tara's face journey from complete bafflement to hopeful understanding, with a brief stopover on relief.

"Oh…" Her tense stance relaxed just a little. "So… S-so all of that was… from a dream? Y-you thought you were still dreaming?"

"I think so. I was talking to Dream-You, and I guess you woke me up when you walked in." She tried to offer a flimsy, embarrassed smile.

"Oh…" Tara gave a weak, forced chuckle.

"Sorry, I thought…" Willow shook her head, blushing, but Tara briskly interrupted.

"I-it's okay," she said a little too quickly. "It's good, really. I mean, I really didn't want to fight."

"Me neither."

There was an eerie silence between them. Willow could still see fear behind Tara's awkward smile. She was torn, because she really did want to talk to Tara about her secrets. She didn't want to fight about it, but she did want them to talk until things made more sense. Tara clearly had other plans.

"I… I should go," she said, glancing back at the door. "I just came by to get my books. I thought I would go study at the library."

Willow's heart fell, stinging with disappointment. She knew an avoidance tactic when she saw one.

"But… it's late." The sun was almost down. Tara was always cautious about going out after sundown, and she almost never went out alone if it was going to be dark.

"I know. I'll be careful. I just want to finish some things…" She was already inching back.

"Okay…" Willow frowned, but didn't try to stop her. She had just gotten taste of what a fight with Tara would be like, and she didn't like it one bit. The idea of immediately starting up a real one didn't sound very appealing.

"I'll be back later." Tara slipped out the door before Willow could say anything else. Willow noticed that she hadn't picked up any of her books on the way out.


	35. Trust

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For occasional mentions of sex. But not in this chapter.  
>Disclaimer: <em>Clearly<em>, I don't own the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just the situations I put them in here.  
>AN: So, as usual, I suck about updating promptly. November was NaNo, then December I moved (again), and in January I got a new boss and my workload at work about tripled. So business as usual, I suppose. I've had this little ditty lying around for awhile. I almost can't call it a real chapter. It's more of a coda for Testy. It's not a happy one, but it's a step that needs to be taken. Anyway, hopefully it'll tide you over while I finish up the next chapter. Next chapter's an important one, and it's one I've kind of always wanted to write, so I'm looking forward to getting it all fixed up and ready for posting.

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><p>Chapter 35 (sort of):<br>Trust Me

The moon shone through the curtains, keeping Willow company while she lay awake. It had been hours since her fight with Tara, and she was still waiting for her to return from the library. She felt awful about the fight, but she felt worse that Tara still seemed intent on hiding. She wondered what was running through Tara's head right then— was she scared? Relieved? Was she even studying, or just waiting, gathering her bearings, until Willow was asleep?

Finally, she heard the faint, muffled sound of a key turning in the lock and the door being slowly eased open.

_Tara…_ She was trying to be quiet. She probably thought Willow was asleep. Willow closed her eyes and made her breathing deep and even. She heard Tara cross the room and almost-silently shrug out of her clothes and into pajamas. Finally, the bed began to dip as Tara very, very slowly climbed in, slipping under the covers. When she was finally settled, she gave a barely audible sigh. She had been so quiet that Willow honestly doubted she would have woken up if she had actually been asleep.

As she continued to feign sleep, she could hear Tara lying awake beside her, her breath too quick to be restful. She could feel Tara's eyes on her, all over her. It made the surface of her skin tingle. The covers stirred slightly, and then there was a featherlight touch on her face. _Tara._ Tara traced her features with a cool, soft touch, following the curves and planes with her fingertips. She brushed loose strands of red out of the way, smoothing them back and caressing the skin underneath. It was so sweet and gentle that Willow felt tears well up behind her eyelids.

She lay there silently while Tara stroked her cheeks and memorized her face with her fingertips. After several minutes, she heard the almost-silent sound of Tara whispering under her breath. She could barely make out even a word, and it was hard to focus on anything but Tara's tender exploration of her face, but she tried.

"_I'm sorry." _"_-so sorry._" "_I wish I could tell-_" "_I wish you_-" "-_understand_-" "_-just can't_-" "_I want to stay_-" "_-don't want you to look at me_-" "-_don't want to go_-" "_Please-"_

Even at its barely audible volume, Willow could hear the agony in Tara's voice, and she couldn't let it go on. As much as she wanted to hear the words, the emotion in them tore her heart wide open. She pretended to stir, blinking sleepily until she could see Tara's face in the darkness. Blue eyes shone in the dim moonlight, bright with forming tears. Willow's heart gave a sharp pang at the sight.

Tara's hand halted, still cool against Willow's cheek, but trembling. For a second, Willow waited to see what she would do. When she didn't move, Willow reached an arm around her and pulled her close. She felt Tara bury her face in the crook of her neck, hiding her eyes in the collar of her pajama top. She didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything. Slowly, as Willow slid her hands up and down her girlfriend's back, she felt Tara begin to relax. She stayed silent, but the rigid tension in her body thawed somewhat. Willow was wondering if she would speak, or if she would fall asleep, when the blonde finally broke the silence.

"Are we okay?" Tara's already quiet voice was muffled by the pajama shirt and hoarse with emotion, but Willow heard her loud and clear. She drew her closer, squeezing tightly.

"Yes. We're okay." Right then, right there, more than anything, Willow wanted to tell her she loved her. The force of the desire was so strong she almost gave into it. But she didn't. Things between them felt terrifyingly tense and tenuous, and she didn't want the first time she admitted her love to be in the midst of a fight about trust. Tara breathed a sigh of relief and pressed her whole body close against Willow's. "We're okay," Willow repeated in her ear, and she felt Tara finally give in and melt bonelessly into her embrace.

Minutes later, right when she could feel herself falling asleep, she heard Tara whisper "I'm sorry" again, this time loud enough for Willow to hear her clearly. Willow blinked her eyes back open. She lowered her head and placed a gentle kiss in Tara's hair, then her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. She pushed their foreheads together and stared into her eyes with all the sincerity and love she could muster.

"You. can. trust. me." She didn't whisper the words— she said them, slowly and clearly, at full volume. "Whatever it is, I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to hide from me." Tara tried to lower her eyes, but Willow moved to hold her gaze. "It doesn't have to be right now. But someday, you'll have to tell me what's so scary. And I'll stay right here with you. No matter what. I promise."

She could tell from her eyes that Tara wanted to believe her, but couldn't. Whatever her secrets were, Tara clearly thought they would cost her everything. But she leaned forward slightly, brushing her lips against Willow's in a soft, brief, heartrending kiss.

"I hope so."

And that was enough. For tonight, it was enough.


	36. Movie Night

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For occasional mentions of sex. But not in this chapter.  
>Disclaimer: If I owned the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Tara would never have been killed off. I don't. But I did write the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: This was originally the first half of a chapter. I've reluctantly split it because of length. The next chapter has some very important fallout and will be posted within the week. It's a difficult one, so I'm taking advantage of the split to do some final adjustments.  
>AN2: It's not exactly canon, but I always liked the idea of Tara gravitating towards Buffy's mom. I mean, after what happened with her own, and her family situation besides that… well, there's some potential there for an interesting dynamic. So this is (in part) my interpretation of that idea.

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><p>Chapter 36:<br>Movie Night

Willow sat on the couch, trying to relax and enjoy the movie. Tara was only a few inches away, but those empty inches felt glaringly intentional after their almost-fight the day before. Buffy shared the couch with them, curled on the opposite end, while Xander took the armchair, Anya in his lap. From the kitchen, they could hear clinking dishes as Mrs. Summers cleaned up their mess from dinner.

Willow glanced up again at the girl beside her as she sensed movement. Tara was grimacing again, turning her face from the screen. An old monster movie was playing, and she seemed to look away from the screen more than she looked towards it. Willow tried reaching for her hand a few times, but Tara subtly withdrew from her every time she reached out, until she finally stopped trying.

In the movie, a young man screamed and clawed at himself theatrically as his skin turned green and tentacles sprouted all over his body as he once again transformed into the swamp monster. The Scoobies had a tradition of watching old, kitschy, fake-looking monster movies. After all the time they spent dealing with real ones, the ones from the movies were usually either adorable or hilarious in their ineptitude. From what Willow could tell, though, Tara did not share their thickened skin.

"You okay?" she whispered, leaning over and putting a hand on her girlfriend's arm. Tara uncharacteristically jerked free of her grasp, then gave a self-conscious smile that was more of a grimace.

"Yeah. F-fine. I just… I don't like monster movies much. At least ones like this, where people…" she glanced at the transformation on the screen for a minute and shivered, but seemed to give up on any further description, awkwardly clearing her throat and shaking her head.

"We could watch something else," Willow offered quickly. She wasn't really sure what Tara meant by 'ones like this,' but they did have a huge number of movies at their disposal, and many of them were nothing at all like the one playing. And if it made Tara feel more comfortable… "I mean, none of us really care—"

"N-no," Tara interrupted, shaking her head. She looked embarrassed and avoided Willow's gaze. "But… I, uh, I think maybe I'll go outside for a minute. Get some air?"

"Want me to come with you?" Willow asked, hoping with everything she had that the answer would be 'yes.' Then, they could sit outside and talk things over and maybe things could be less strained between them again. And then they could come back and cuddle on the couch, and—

"No." Tara rose to her feet, but motioned Willow to stay put. "I'll be fine."

Willow's heart sank, stinging from the rejection. She thought about arguing her point, or saying that people in Sunnydale were safer in pairs, or that saying that she didn't like the movie either and wanted to get some air, too.

"The backyard is safer," she said instead. The night before, as they both lay awake, recovering from their almost-fight, she had silently vowed to give Tara the space she needed to figure things out. But now that it came to actually acting on it, she started to feel like maybe it was a stupid idea. Maybe forcing the issue would be better. Maybe Tara really _wanted_ to tell her, but just needed a little push.

Tara gave a small smile of thanks and began to walk back towards the kitchen. Willow forced herself to follow her with her eyes instead of her feet.

"Something wrong?" Buffy asked from the other side of the couch.

"I don't know," Willow murmured, still watching the spot in hallway where Tara had disappeared. "She said she doesn't like the movie very much."

"We could watch something else."

"I told her that. I guess she doesn't want to seem like she's bothering us." Willow sighed. "She said she's just getting some air. Alone."

She heard the back door creak open, pause for several seconds, then shut again. She assumed this meant that Tara was in the backyard, until she heard the low cadence of her voice in the kitchen, followed by Buffy's mom's. They were talking, their voices rendered vague and indistinct by distance and walls.

Willow tried to pay attention to the movie, but her curiosity and jealousy were eating her alive. _She said she wanted to be alone, but now she's talking to someone. Someone who's not me._

She spent a good five minutes fidgeting restlessly before giving up and scanning the room for some excuse to go into the kitchen. The popcorn bowl between her and Buffy was about two-thirds empty._ Close enough._ She crunched down the last several handfuls of kernels in the space of a minute, as Buffy looked on with an arched eyebrow.

"I'm going to get some more. From the kitchen," she explained, fighting back a blush. Buffy just smirked and turned her attention back to the movie. Willow scooped up the empty bowl and tried to keep her steps silent as she approached the other room.

"You don't have to do that," she could make out Mrs. Summers's voice first.

"I don't mind," came Tara's response. "I've, um, been washing dishes since… well, forever, I guess. S-since I was a kid."

"Well, if you're willing, then I'm certainly not going to stop you."

Willow entered the room quietly, but not quietly enough to escape their attention.

"Out of popcorn already?" Mrs. Summers asked brightly from where she stood by the counter, stacking clean plates in a cabinet. Tara stood at the sink, hands mindlessly scrubbing at a pan with smooth, practiced motions.

"Yeah. I guess." Willow hadn't really planned for this part, but she adapted quickly enough, bringing the bowl over to the microwave and finding another popcorn bag.

"Tara, you were friends with Willow before you met Buffy, right?" Mrs. Summers picked her conversation with Tara back up. Tara nodded, looking up at her with an expression Willow didn't recognize.

"Yeah. We met back in Fall."

That was the understatement of the year, but Willow had no plans to amend Tara's drastically shortened, G-rated version of the story.

"And you're a witch, too?" Joyce frowned suddenly. "That's the right word, isn't it? I mean, it's not offensive or anything? I never thought to ask."

Tara gave an amused smile that warmed her eyes. Willow had to suppress the urge to furrow her brow. Tara seemed perfectly at ease now. Almost relaxed. It was different than she had been around Buffy and Xander, or even around Giles. _Why?_

"It's okay. 'Witch' is fine. And, um, yes… I am one."

"Was your family-"

Joyce was interrupted and Willow was brought back to reality by the sound of the microwave beeping and the smell of burnt popcorn. She hadn't been paying attention to it. Regardless, she emptied the bag into the bowl while Tara seemed content to leave the unfinished question unanswered. Unable to think of a good way to delay her departure, Willow started to walk back towards the living room in a path that would let her walk past Tara.

"Hey…" she murmured, pausing by the sink, where Tara methodically cleaned another large dish. "Do you want to come back in? We can put in a different movie. No one would mind." She didn't want Tara to feel ostracized from their group for something as meaningless as movie preferences. But Tara shook her head, not quite meeting Willow's eyes.

"It's alright, Willow. You guys can finish the movie. I can stay in here for a little longer." Her gaze flitted towards the sink, then up to Mrs. Summers, then back to her girlfriend.

"I just… are you _sure_?" Willow could hear the confusion in her own voice. _Tara would rather wash dishes than watch a monster movie?_ It sounded crazy. But then again, Willow would rather go toe-to-toe with a vampire than with a sink full of dishes, so she allowed the possibility that she was biased. "You should have told us how much you don't like monster movies. We wouldn't have put one on if we'd known."

"Willow, it's fine. I'm fine in here." Her voice sounded sincere as she set the clean dish on a cloth by the sink to dry. "Just go back and finish the movie with the others. I'll be fine." Her face still held an expression that Willow had never seen before, and Willow once again felt like she was sitting for a test she had never gotten the material for.

"Okay," she relented. She wanted to squeeze Tara's hand for reassurance, but she wasn't sure she could handle Tara pulling away from her again. "I'll come tell you when it's over. Okay?"

Tara nodded again, and Willow reluctantly withdrew to the living room. This time, though, she deliberately sat on the floor on the kitchen-adjacent side of the room, just close enough that she could hear the voices in the kitchen if she really strained her ears over the sound of the television— which she did.

"Is everything okay?" Mrs. Summers was asking now.

"I think so." Tara answered, then paused for several seconds. "I think… we kind of had a fight yesterday."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." There was another short silence, punctuated by more screams from the television. "She didn't seem mad. When she and Buffy fight, she mostly just avoids her. If she came in here to-" Noise from the movie covered up the rest of Mrs. Summer's reassurance.

"-hope so," came Tara's voice once the movie quieted. "It was my fault, though."

Even though Willow wanted Tara to open up to her, her heart twisted at the guilt in Tara's voice.

"Well, between you and me, Buffy's said and done plenty of things over the years that had them fighting. But it never lasted. Whatever it was, I think if you're already talking again, it was probably nothing to worry about."

Something about the phrase 'between you and me' hit Willow right in the chest, and her own sense of guilt flooded her. By eavesdropping, she was horribly invading Tara's privacy. Which was exactly what she had been trying to avoid with her vow. Ashamed with herself, she stood from her awkward place on the floor and made her way back to the couch, where the two voices faded into an indistinct rumble on the other side of the wall.

"Everything okay?" Buffy asked. Willow nodded.

"She's just talking with your mom." _About me. About how she's worried that I'm mad at her. _It was a weird thought. She hadn't ever considered how Tara might interact with Buffy's mom. _But I guess… she doesn't really have any close friends she could talk to about it… As far as I know…_

"Oh. Okay." Buffy's eyebrows rose a little, as though she hadn't considered that option either.

"And washing dishes," Willow added absently. _More weirdness._

"Huh. Why do I get the feeling that's going to get me in trouble later?" Buffy rolled her eyes and put on her best mom-voice. "'You know, Buffy, your friend Tara helped me clean up after the rest of you tonight. When was the last time you did that?'"

Willow smiled and shrugged helplessly.

"I tried to get her to stop, but she wanted to stay."

"She hates the movie that much?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I want to ask her on the way home. But I've been getting the feeling lately that there's a lot she doesn't tell me." Willow looked at Buffy critically for a second, trying to decide whether or not to say anything. Finally, she decided that if Tara was in the other room talking about their fight, it must be okay for her to talk about it, too. "We kind of had a fight last night. I accidentally yelled at her for keeping secrets from me."

"How do you accidentally yell at someone?" Buffy asked, tilting her head and furrowing her brow in confusion.

"It's a weird story."

"Obviously." Buffy smirked. "Well, did she give you a reason?"

"No." Willow's eyes stared off into the doorway to the kitchen. "But I think it's something big. I think she's really scared to tell me too much."

Buffy raised her eyebrows, surprised.

"She doesn't seem like the type to have a checkered past."

"I know…" _She's so quiet and sweet. What could she possibly have to hide? What could scare her that bad?_

Willow spent the remainder of the movie lost in thought, trying to imagine what the problem might be. Buffy nudged her when the credits started to roll, jerking her out of her reverie. This version imagined Tara as an undercover FBI agent sent to investigate Sunnydale, X-Files style. _Would Tara be Mulder or Scully? This requires additional thought._

"It's over?" Willow verified. Buffy nodded, and the redhead immediately jumped to her feet and made a beeline for the kitchen. The sink was empty. Tara stood with a dishtowel, drying the dishes and handing them to Mrs. Summers to put away.

"It's… um, it's kind of hard to explain. I mean, my mom's side of the family was Wiccan, but my dad-" Tara broke off as she noticed Willow. "Hey. Um… is the m-movie over already?"

Willow felt like she'd been electrocuted. Tara was talking about her family. To someone else. Like it was nothing. Like it was normal. Like it wasn't a subject she had always gone to exhaustive pains to avoid at all costs around Willow. What did that mean? Was Tara finally willing to open up about her past? That was the best case scenario. The worst case scenario was much more terrifying. Could Tara's avoidance of the topic be specific to Willow?

She knew she was just standing there dumbly, and tried to remember what Tara had asked her.

"Yeah. It's over." She was spared having to form additional sentences as Buffy, Xander, and Anya trickled into the kitchen as well.

"We're going to head out, I think. Thanks, Mrs. S., as always," Xander said. He gave Anya an expectant look.

"Yes, thank you for letting us eat food and watch movies at your house," Anya recited, offering a forced smile. "Was that right?" she stage-whispered to Xander, who nodded and shushed her.

"You're very welcome. Be careful getting home. It's dark," Mrs. Summers reminded them, pretending not to have noticed Anya's slip-up. Xander nodded gratefully, and they took their leave. Willow noticed Anya give an extra wave to Tara on her way out, and suppressed a sigh.

As the door closed behind the departing couple, Tara looked awkwardly between Willow and Mrs. Summers.

"Um… I can stay and finish if you want. There's not much left," the blonde offered after a moment of confused silence. Mrs. Summers smiled and shook her head.

"No, you two can go on home. I think it's Buffy's turn to help clean up." She raised an eyebrow at her daughter, who seemed to shrink under her gaze. Buffy shot Willow a quick 'I told you' look before accepting the towel from Tara. "I appreciate the offer, though. Maybe your helpfulness and manners will rub off on everyone else," she teased. Willow blushed, but Tara just smiled shyly. Mrs. Summers began walking them to the door. Willow pulled it open and stepped outside, but Tara hesitated in the doorway. Mrs. Summers took the opportunity to squeeze Tara's shoulder. "It was nice to meet you, Tara. Remember, you're welcome back here anytime."

Tara nodded, suddenly looking much younger than her nineteen years.

"Thank you," she said simply, before following Willow out into the night.


	37. Walk Home

Title: Beer Very Bad  
>Author: Golden Waffles<br>Rating: T. For occasional mentions of sex. But not in this chapter.  
>Disclaimer: If I owned the characters or settings of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Tara would never have been killed off. I don't. But I did write the situations I put them in here.<br>A/N: Okay, so here's part two. Like I said, this was a tricky one. Balancing Tara's need to hide with her desire to be open and Willow's perceptions with her misconceptions is… tricky. I'm pretty satisfied with the ultimate product, though.  
>AN2: Things in the fic have been pretty heavy lately, and I want to break up some of that tension before starting on the next arc of the fic. But I don't have anything in mind. So… if you have suggestions for fun things you'd like to see in the fic, put them in a comment or a PM and they may show up in the next chapter or two! (No major reveals, of course)

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><p>Chapter 37:<br>Walk Home

The door finally closed behind them, and Willow began leading them back towards campus with the sort of winding path only someone in their hometown would think to take. Although the night was warm, the air between them still felt cool. Willow's hands hung loosely at her sides, and Tara's were pushed deep into her pockets, but every few steps, their arms would brush against each other, and Willow watched Tara out of the corner of her eye. She had seemed to be in such a good mood when she and Joyce had been talking, but now her head was bowed thoughtfully, and a heaviness lay over her features. Willow kept waiting for her to say something, to give her some clue about how she was feeling, but Tara maintained her pensive silence. Finally, as they cut through a small playground where she and Xander had played as kids, she realized that Tara's silence wasn't sullen or passive aggressive- it was unintentional. The blonde was lost in her own thoughts, and if Willow wanted a conversation, she would need to start one herself.

"Did you and Mrs. Summers have a good talk?" she asked as their shoes kicked through the synthetic mulch of the playground. She already had the conversation planned in her head. First, an innocuous question to start the discussion. Then… _You were telling her about your family. You know, the one you've never told me about. Me, your friend, your girlfriend, who you live with, who loves you. Except maybe I shouldn't say that last part. Damn it._

Tara looked up, startled by the breaking of the silence. She blinked a few times and shifted her head, as though reorienting herself.

"Oh… um, yeah… She was really nice." Her eyes held a strange, faraway look that made Willow's heart squeeze for reasons she couldn't quite identify. It was… sad, but not sadness. Something adjacent to sad. Loneliness? Regret?

Willow's plans for a tough conversation collapsed, and she pressed herself gently into Tara's side for comfort. To her relief, this time Tara didn't flinch away. Instead, the blonde looked up and regarded her for several long seconds with fathomless blue eyes. Tara's gait slowed to a stop, leaving them standing together amidst the merry-go-rounds and slides and swings. A line of tension bridged her eyebrows, like she was trying to work up the courage to throw herself on her sword. After what felt like an eternity, she took a deep breath and continued the thought. "She… k-kind of… reminded me of my mom."

A million questions crowded Willow's head, but she knew she couldn't ask them all. There wasn't time, for one. More importantly, she suspected that a sudden avalanche of questions would make Tara freeze up or withdraw. She had to be more careful than that. _Even though Tara just said something about her family. To me. For the first time. Finally._ She held her breath for a few heartbeats, and forced her babbling mouth to hold still.

"So… you're feeling homesick?" Willow guessed softly, hoping that a light prompting wouldn't scare her off. Tara shook her head slowly. The blonde walked a few steps farther and took a seat on the swing set. Willow followed, standing at her side and waiting for her to continue.

"No… it's not that. It's just…" Her face was pale, and her eyes were trained on the ground. "My mom… she died. About a year and a half ago."

Willow was stunned. Shock, then pain, then grief flooded her senses. She had never thought…

"Tara…"

"She was sick. For a long time. And then…" Tara's eyes were too bright, caught too much moonlight, just like the night before. Any residual anger Willow had been holding onto crumbled into heartbroken sympathy.

"Tara… I'm so sorry. I didn't know." She tried to pull her close and offer comfort, but Tara resisted, hands clenching the chains of the swing. Willow's heart clenched in response. _Don't pull away. Please. Not now._

"Things… fell apart after that. Home… didn't feel like home."

Shaking her head slowly, Willow felt comprehension dawn. It made sense now. _Of course_ Tara didn't like talking about her family. Or her high school experience. Or her recent past in general. It was probably too painful. And Willow had thoughtlessly pushed and fought and forced the issue. She wanted to kick herself. But here Tara sat, willing to open up to her in order to save their relationship. _I'm so in love with this girl…_

"Is that… Did… I mean…" Willow didn't know which of her questions she was even asking, but Tara didn't seem to need much prompting now that she had made up her mind.

"That's why I left. I thought if I went somewhere new, I could start over."

That made sense. Buffy had tried that once, albeit with much worse results.

"So you came here," Willow said. She wished Tara would look her in the eye, but she knew that Tara felt more protected with her face hidden as it was now, with her head bowed and straight blonde hair sweeping forward like a curtain.

"Yeah…" Her voice was distant now, remembering. "It seemed so far away. Worlds away. I mean, California was a place… from songs and movies and books. Not real. I thought it'd be easy to start over in a place like that. Like here."

"And the Hellmouth…" Long ago, trapped in the laundry room, Tara had implied that the epicenter had been one of her reasons her coming to UCSD. Willow had filed the information away as 'Interesting Tara-Facts.'

At the mention of the Hellmouth, Tara's hands tightened on the chains of the swingset until the color bled from her fingers. Confused, Willow stroked the back of one hand, trying to coax it into relaxing. It didn't work.

"The Hellmouth… attracts things. Magic things." Tara's voice had taken on a strange quality, like she was saying each word individually, stripped of context, avoiding all inflection.

"Like witches," Willow extrapolated with a nod.

"Yes. All kinds of magic things," Tara echoed dully. "Witches… vampires… spirits… demons… Slayers…"

"Sure," Willow nodded, frowning in confusion. She wasn't sure why Tara wanted to hold Hellmouth 101, but if it kept her talking, then Willow was game. "That's right… You said you knew about the dangers here. And that there was a Slayer. Before you came. Right?" More interesting Tara-Facts from the laundry room.

"With everything here… I thought… it would be safer. Because of the Slayer." Tara's voice still had that strange quality, like she was very, very carefully choosing each word before saying it. "In case… things went wrong… and the demons tried to hurt people. She would have the power to stop… them."

Even Tara's cadence sounded off now. It reminded her of making her computer talk when she was younger- it said all the right words, but they were never put together in a way that sounded natural. It always just sounded like words.

"Yeah. The town's been a lot safer since Buffy came here. It's not like it was before." Willow was having trouble following the thread of the conversation. She tried to parse out how this was relevant to Tara leaving home and coming to Sunnydale. "So… you were worried about being attacked?"

Tara didn't respond for several seconds. Willow caught a fleeting glimpse of her face, and saw that it was ashen.

"I guess…" Tara's already-quiet voice faded out, and all at once, she seemed to deflate. Her hands released their death grip on the swing and slid down the chains. Her shoulders slumped. Her head bowed deeper. She looked suddenly exhausted.

"Tara, I don't…" _I don't understand why you're telling me this. I don't know what that look on your face means. I don't know what's going on. You're talking in code and I don't have the decoder ring yet._

At first, she had thought maybe Tara had been jumping from topic to topic as a way to keep up her momentum of talking while she gathered her thoughts, but now, after the change in tone and tension, Willow thought that there must be something more. Something bigger. She still didn't know what that might be, but she didn't want to seem ungrateful. It was a miracle that Tara was telling her anything at all, and if stumbling through a guarded and incomplete explanation made it easier for her, then Willow was fine with that. For now.

"I'm sorry," Tara whispered. Willow shook her head and tried to step into the space between her legs, unsure if Tara would let her. When she didn't move to stop her, Willow completed the step forward and pulled her close. Tara leaned her head into her girlfriend's chest, and Willow held her, stroking her hair and murmuring reassurances.

"You haven't done anything wrong. I'm sorry I didn't understand." She knew that above all else, she had to be supportive now. If she ever wanted Tara to open up to her again, she had to make her feel okay about it. Even if she was still burning to know more.

"It's not that simple." Tara's voice shook like she was on the verge of tears.

"That's fine. It doesn't have to be simple," Willow murmured, holding her tighter. She felt Tara's hands clench in her shirt, holding her in place for a long moment. "I'm sorry that you came to Sunnydale because of something that sad. But, for the record, I'm really glad you came."

"I'm really glad, too." Some of the pain from before had eased from her voice, and Willow could feel the sincerity of her words wash over them both. The low ache in Willow's heart that had lingered since their fight finally faded away. Tara was warm in her arms and willing to accept her comfort. She cared for her. She was opening up. They weren't fighting.

With visible reluctance, Tara began to pull back. Willow kept her arms in place.

"Don't let go until you're ready," she whispered. Tara hesitated for a moment, then sank forward again, sighing into Willow's shirt and closing her eyes as Willow continued her gentle ministrations. They stayed like that for several minutes that felt like several hours, until Tara finally gave a small nod and once again pulled back.

"Okay. I'm okay," she said. Willow took a half-step back, but stayed within reach.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Tara nodded, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Willow combed her fingers through the long blonde hair a few times, smoothing it where it had gotten ruffled by her shirt.

"Yeah. I just… I want to go home."

They stood, Willow helping pull Tara to her feet. Tara's steps were more than a little shaky, but she didn't flinch away when Willow wrapped an arm around her, and that in itself felt like a victory. Tara leaned her head wearily on Willow's shoulder and they slowly walked back towards campus.

It wasn't until they stepped into the darkened dorm room that the significance of that simple statement began to sink in for Willow.

_Home._

_I want to go home._

That's what she had said. But… before… _Things fell apart. Home didn't feel like home._

_I want to go home._

Tara had found her home again. She called the dorm room home. This was home now. This tiny room was home. Willow was home. As they got into bed, Tara folded like she had spent the day running a marathon. Willow gathered her close and planted kiss after kiss in her hair, wordlessly thanking her for finally opening up. Twisting in her arms, Tara burrowed her face in Willow's shirt and drew the covers over her head, as if she needed to hide now to make up for the night's exposure and vulnerability. Willow gathered the blankets securely around them both and lay awake, feeling Tara's breath more than hearing it.

Tara had tried to open up to her. She had tried to tell Willow about her past. She was trying. And Willow knew that doing that meant fighting every one of her instincts. She breathed a grateful sigh into Tara's hair.

"I love you," Willow whispered, but Tara was already sound asleep.


End file.
